An Unlikely Pair, No Longer
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: 3rd in the "An Unlikely Pair" triology. Married after one weekend together, everyone claimed they were an unlikely pair, but after 14 months of marriage, they were out to prove, at least to themselves, that they were an unlikely pair, no longer. Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

**_All Characters and canon situations belong to JKRowling and I make no money from using the characters in this story_**

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_Summary: They married after one weekend together, and although everyone said they were an unlikely pair, they were out to prove them wrong. Now, fourteen months later, they were wondering if perhaps everyone was right. Perhaps they were an unlikely pair. Perhaps it took more than a weekend of romance to fall in love. Perhaps it would take more than a weekend to stay married. And perhaps, in the end, they would find out that they were an unlikely pair, no longer, but in a good way._ _Third in the series._

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_**An Unlikely Pair, No Longer**_

_**By**_

_**Anne M**_

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

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**Chapter 1:**

Fourteen months, ten days and 23 minutes. That was how long Hermione and Draco had been married. Fourteen months, a week and a half, and almost a half an hour. To Hermione, it felt like a lifetime, but not in a good way. For one thing, two months, ten days, and 24 minutes ago, Draco Malfoy forgot their first anniversary.

Oh he proclaimed proficient apologies later, (two days later), and he bought Hermione extravagant gifts to make up the fact that his memory was faulty, but she was still angry, and she felt she had every right to be. He was slightly dismissive of her anger, as he was apt to be. Therefore, as far as their first anniversary went, it went by the wayside, and they were at an impasse.

He forgot a great many things, really. For instance, he would order his favourite red wine every time they ate out, never once remembering that she didn't like it. He never asked her if she wanted a different type of wine, and every time he asked her if she wanted some, she would say the same thing. "I don't like that wine." He would smile, say, "Oh, I forgot," and then pour some for her anyway.

It was maddening and degrading, in her opinion. How could someone truly forget the same thing repeatedly? Was this what marriage to him would be like forever? Since he forgot their first anniversary, would he forget all of the subsequent ones as well? Would he forget her birthday and other important occasions? Would he forget that she was allergic to blueberries and try to feed her one someday? Would he always forget that she hated eggs on her salad, just because he liked them? (That happened all the time, too.)

Was she to live with a man who couldn't even remember that she hated a certain type of wine?

He was a good father to their son. Hermione would give him that, even though he was off buying 'fruit and a car' when the lad was born. Little Cygnus looked like his mother, but so far, he had his father's temperament. He was only five months old, so Hermione hoped there was time to cure him of that. He called his son Cyggy, which Hermione hated, but she called him Cam, after his initials, (Cygnus Abraxas Malfoy), which he hated, so she could hardly complain. But he didn't mind changing dirty nappies too awful much, and although he had never spent the night alone with his baby, he was a capable and loving father, for which Hermione was glad.

For the most part, he was a good husband. He was attentive in other ways, in most ways that counted. Nevertheless, he was so damn deficient in other areas that she was beginning to wonder if this marriage was a humongous mistake.

Maybe if they had dated for longer than a weekend before they married, she would have become accustomed to his shortcomings. She would have had time to change the things she didn't like, or at least found a way to overlook them. Considering that their entire courtship lasted less than forty-eight hours, what did she expect?

Everyone warned her (and him) that they should have gotten to know each other better before plunging into marriage, but no, no one could tell Hermione Granger (no hyphen) Malfoy a damn thing. If she decided upon something, she gritted her teeth and did it, and let all others be damned.

Everyone warned her that he was self-centered, egotistical, and conceited, but the truth was that she tended to be all of those things as well, so she could relate to him. No one could have known about his forgetfulness, and no one knew about his sometimes thoughtlessness. So what if he was spoiled? So what if he still asked his father for help every now and again, (and money, though he had enough of it) and his mother to make him sandwiches, (which she gladly had the house elves do). In most respects, he was a good man. She loved him.

She just couldn't stand the sight of him at the moment. She wondered, as she drove up the long, mountain road in the rain, if he would even notice that she was gone this weekend. She left her five-month-old son with her mother, asked her father for the keys to his weekend hunting cabin, took her car, and drove away with no explanation to her parents. She knew she was running away from her problems, through a thunderstorm, up a mountain road no less, but it was the only thing she could think to do. Whenever she tried to talk to him about it, either he would try to placate her, or he would walk away.

It was only September, but it was very cold tonight, so she cranked the heat up to high in her car, and she pulled her phone out of her pocket, to give him a call. She hadn't left him a note, because frankly, she wanted him to worry, but feeling remorseful, she decided to clue him in on her expedition of enlightenment.

Her husband was at his weekly Friday night poker game, so he probably wouldn't even answer his phone. After his games, he usually came home late, showered, checked on the baby, kissed her goodnight, and then stumbled into bed somewhere around two-thirty or three in the morning. He usually slept the next day until ten, and then he had things to do, but never with her and their son. He claimed he worked hard all week, so Saturday was his day of rest. He played Quidditch, watch sports on the telly, read, jogged, or puttered around in his tool shed, though he didn't know how to use any of the expensive tools he bought.

Sunday was for family. He always spent Sunday with them. But Hermione wanted more attention from him than one day a week. She would be starting back to work in another month, and what was to become of them, then?

She felt her marriage was in a shambles. Married only a little over fourteen months, and already it was in trouble. She was certain that Draco was content with the way things were, but she wasn't. She wanted the Draco from the Burrow back. The one from the weekend when they fell in love. The one that made her laugh and did romantic things, played silly games. Perhaps if they took the normal route that most couples took, and they had dated for, oh say, fourteen months, ten days, and etc, etc, before they married, they would have ironed out all of the kinks before they had said, 'I do', or perhaps, they would have said goodbye, and said, 'I don't'. She would never know now.

Hermione had no illusions. She knew she wasn't an easy person to love, or live with. She was bossy, and demanding, and exacting, and exasperating. She often felt it was just a matter of time before he left her, or killed her, anyway, so she decided to take matters into her own hands first.

Although, as his number continued to ring, she had to remind herself that she was NOT leaving her husband. She was merely having a weekend alone to examine her options. That's right. That's what she would tell him, if he would answer HIS BLOODY PHONE!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Draco felt distracted that night during his weekly, Friday night poker game. He even made some costly mistakes during the last round. His mind was on his wife this evening. When he was leaving, he bent down and kissed his son as he lay in the bassinet, turned to kiss his wife as she sat on the sofa, and when he aimed for her lips, she turned and offered her cheek.

He growled, put his hand on her chin, and said, "No cheek from you, Missy." He kissed her lips. He started to straighten up, but she grasped the sleeve of his shirt.

He looked at her confused and she said, "Could you stay home tonight."

"What if I make it an early evening? I'll come home about eleven, alright?" he said with a smile.

"Couldn't you just stay home this once?" she asked.

"Nott took a lot of money from me last week, sweetheart. I need to try to recoup my losses. It's not easy to live like kings, you know. Don't you want me to make you lots of money?" He laughed.

"We have lots of money, and I make better money as a Healer than you do as an Auror," she said.

Now he frowned and said, "Yes, so you've told me before." She had no response to his biting remark. She turned her head and placed her hand upon her cheek. He leaned back down and kissed her forehead.

Then she nodded, and he straightened up and started out of the living room. He looked back, as she stared into nothingness. He realized that she didn't have the telly on, she wasn't reading, and she wasn't holding the baby. She was just sitting there, looking blankly into a blank room

He was concerned, but not enough that he stayed to ask her what was wrong.

The reason he didn't stay to ask her what was wrong, was because whenever he tried to ask her what was wrong, she always, always, ALWAYS, said, "NOTHING!"

He sat at the poker table and looked at his watch. It was only 8:15. He had only been gone an hour. Perhaps he would wrap it up early, and go home to her. He usually turned his phone off during the game. He pulled it from his pocket, and saw that he had one missed call.

"Come on Malfoy, are you in or out!" Adrian asked.

Draco looked at his phone, saw it was Hermione who had called, turned the phone back off and said, "I'm in." He was chicken shite not to call her back, but sometimes he was afraid of her, pure and simple.

Sometimes his lovely wife scared him shiteless. She was a bossy thing that was for sure. She knew this was his one night with his mates. She shouldn't be calling. She was probably just calling to berate him. She was always complaining about something. Draco…you forgot to take out the rubbish. Draco…did you spent fifteen hundred galleons on a leather sofa! Draco…why did you forget our anniversary. Damn. That last one hurt to this day.

He didn't mean to forget! He couldn't remember the exact date they married, and he was too embarrassed to ask anyone, but he knew it was on a weekend, right, a Sunday, and it was in July, the first weekend, so it made perfect sense to him that it should be on the first Sunday of July the next year. That's what he thought. Then, he thought, wait, that can't be right. So somehow, in his muddled brain, he was confused. That Sunday night, he came home with sweets, flowers, diamond earring, and she wasn't even home, so he thought SHE FORGOT!

Two days later, when he came home from work, she was sitting on the steps, holding their son, and she asked, "Why are you late?"

"Potter had me working late," he lied. He really went out for drinks with his mates. He was punishing her for forgetting their anniversary, two days before.

"I made us a romantic anniversary dinner, Draco. Did you forget our anniversary?" she asked. He looked at her confused.

"NO!" he shouted. "You're the one that forgot! I waited all day Sunday for you to mention it!"

"Why would I mention it on Sunday? We got married last year on a Sunday, the fourth. The fourth is on a Tuesday this year, because of leap year, Draco. Tonight was our anniversary." She stood up, handed him the baby, and said the worst thing she could ever say to him. "You disappointed me, Draco." She walked up the stairs sadly, without saying another word to him for the rest of the night.

He carried his son into the dining room, saw cold food, warm champagne, a cake, and a photograph of his whole family, with a note that said, 'for your desk at work'. Then, there was a big banner that said, 'Happy Anniversary'. Well, fuck leap year, anyway, Draco thought.

He didn't tell her he was sorry, and for that, he _was _sorry. He didn't know what to say. Once again, he messed up. Just like he did when his son was born. He was off buying his wife a new car, and strawberries, but mostly, he didn't want to be home because they were moving into a new house, and he was afraid she would want him to work. Seriously, that's what servants were for, damn it! He even turned off his phone that night, just as he did tonight during poker. The difference was, he missed his son's delivery. That was his greatest regret.

He told his mates to deal him out a hand. He stood up and walked over to Theo's kitchen, and called his wife back. She didn't answer. He got her voice mail. He didn't leave a message. He tried their home phone, but it rang and rang and rang. Now he was worried.

He called her mother.

"Hey, Mum, have you heard from Hermione?" he asked.

"Edward, Draco's on the phone, what do I tell him?" he heard her say to her husband. Now he was really worried.

Adrian called in, "Out or in, Malfoy?"

"OUT!" he yelled. He took the phone to the back porch. "Mum, are you there?"

"It's me, Draco," Edward Granger said.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked.

"You need to come to our house, now," Edward said.

"Please, if something's wrong, tell me?" Draco asked. Then, he heard a baby crying in the background, and his heart sunk to his shoes. "Please."

"Our little girl is very upset, and she says, and I quote, "I'm sad and its Draco's fault", or so she thinks, but I rather think you both take equal blame. However, she's left you, my boy," Edward said, making it sound worse than it was, and meaning to do so. Someone had to knock some sense into his head.

"I'll be right there!" he shouted. He closed his phone, ran in the room, grabbed his jacket, left his winnings on the table, and as his friends shouted at him, he disapparated to his in-law's foyer.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Hermione turned the windshield wipers on high, as the once gentle mist was now a steady, hard rain. She struggled to maintain her speed, and her eyes blurred as the trees seemed to bend closer to the road, due to the high wind. It was early night, but it was already pitch black in the midst of the rain and the forest, but the lights from her car seemed to bounce right off the rain, and didn't help her to see at all. She hoped she remembered the way to the secluded cabin. She had only been there twice before. She picked up her phone and tried to call Draco again. She saw she had one missed call. She scrolled down the menu, saw it was from him, and then put the phone back down. It was too bad outside to try to call from the car. She put the phone in her jacket pocket. She would call him back when she got to the cabin.

She tried to remind herself that she wasn't leaving him. She wasn't leaving her son. She just needed one weekend alone, with her thoughts, to examine what she needed to do to fix things. She didn't want to leave, ever. She just wanted things to be better. She needed one weekend of freedom, one weekend where she was the center of her own universe.

She should have at least left him a note. Perhaps like the note she left him when their baby was born. She could have written it across the shower wall. It could have said, "Draco, I ran away, love, Hermione." Knowing him, he probably would have washed it away, along with everything else.

Her main complaint about marriage was that she never in a million years thought marriage would be lonely, but that was how she felt. Lonely. Not alone, but lonely. She didn't want to talk to anyone this weekend. She told her parents the bare necessities. Take care of Cam, if Draco stops by and thinks he can watch him for a weekend by himself, let him try it. If Draco wants to know where I am, don't tell him. I need time alone, to think about things. I'm unhappy and lonely." She left them no time to ask questions. She handed her mother the baby, and then looked at her dad and said, "May I have the keys to the cabin?"

Her dad went to get the keys, while her mother begged her to take some groceries from the pantry. She told her mother she already had everything that she needed. She kissed her baby goodbye, hugged her mother, and the when she embraced her father, she whispered, "I don't know what to do, Daddy."

She felt weak, and tired, and emotionally and physically detached from her husband, the one person she should feel the closest to. Ironic, in her opinion.

She missed the turn off to the long drive for the cabin, and she had to back the car into reverse. She started up the steep drive, and thought that she had waited her whole life for a husband, and now that she had one, she felt that her dream wasn't living up to the reality. She doubted her husband even knew they were having problems. She was almost there. She said aloud, "Just a little further," (reassuring herself) and she realized that this weekend would either be her saving grace, or her complete undoing.

She pulled up to the cabin and had another harrowing thought. What if he thought she wasn't going to return? What if she took their son and went to the Manor, and she never saw either of them again? She should have kidnapped Draco and made him come with her. That was what she needed. She didn't need time alone, by herself. She needed time alone, with him. How could she work on fixing their marriage by herself? She sighed, because it was too late now. She reached in the backseat for her suitcase, threw her purse over her shoulder and stepped out into the pouring rain.

She opened the boot with her wand, and levitated her bags of groceries and necessities onto the little covered porch. By the time she walked across the threshold, and deposited her things on the floor, she was soaked to the bone. She pointed her wand to the lights, which immediately came to life. Who needed a generator when they had magic? She noticed that thankfully, there was wood in the fireplace. Her dad was always prepared. She started a fire with a flick of her wand. She picked up the bags with groceries and toiletries, and took them into the little kitchen.

This cabin seemed even small then she remembered. There was a main room, with a sofa in the middle of the room, in front of the fireplace, with a coffee table in front of that. There was a large oak dining table and benches along the long wall. Two comfy chairs, one by each side of the fireplace, and a small bed with a trundle underneath in the corner, and several bookshelves.

To the left of the front door was a square hallway with three doors, one on each side, and one across from the main room. The door to the left was the single bedroom. One full-size bed, one nightstand, one hardback chair, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and that was it. The door across from the main room was a small bathroom. Vanity, toilet, shower, and one towel rack. The hot water heater was in the corner, with a shelf above it with towels and toilet paper.

The door to the right was a small, galley kitchen. Stove, sink, cabinets, icebox, and back door, leading to the hillside. In fact, the whole cabin sat on a hill. The front porch was up on stilts, and there were exactly fourteen steps from the circular gravel drive to the front porch. Hermione knew this because she counted on her way up.

She walked into the bedroom, and threw herself upon the bed. She felt she had made a colossal mistake. She took her phone out of her pocket, and tried to call Draco again.

Draco got directions to the cabin from her dad. He asked them to keep the baby for the weekend, apparated home, packed a bag, and then he decided to apparate to the cabin. He didn't want to waste time driving. He felt panic and fear. What did she mean when she told her dad that she was sad? SAD? That was a pretty 'all encompassing' word, wasn't it. A bit vague, in his opinion. He arrived outside the cabin, saw her car, and climbed a steep set of stairs to the front door.

He knocked on the door. There was no answer. There was a large stone chimney jetting out along the front wall of the wooden hew, log cabin, along the front porch. There were two black-lead, paned windows, one on each side of the stone chimney. He looked in these windows, but didn't see a thing.

He walked over to the side, leaned over the banister, and looked inside a window of a room in the front of the house. He brushed the rain off the glass and pressed his nose up closely. He saw her lying on a bed, on her stomach. He went back to the door, used his wand, opened it, and then looked around. Well, hell, this little place would make anyone sad.

He crept to the room at the front of the house. He opened the door. It creaked. She looked up, startled. Then she bounded from the bed, ran to him, and threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her back and he said, "I'm sorry you're sad. Let's see what we can do about it, shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 2:**

"I'm sorry you're sad. Let's see what we can do about it, shall we?" Draco told Hermione, as he pulled her into his embrace.

She let her arms fall from his shoulders and said, "Who told I was sad?"

"Your dad."

"Is he the one who told you I was here?" she asked. "Because if you had answered your phone, I would have told you."

"Is this the blame part of the evening, because frankly, I'm willing to take all the blame for everything, but seriously, what's so wrong with our relationship that you would leave me?"

"Oh, Draco, I didn't leave you, you silly thing. I just needed time to think, and I wanted to get your attention, if the truth was known," she said. She sat on the edge of the bed. "It's not that easy to explain, and perhaps it has more to do with me, than you. I just know that I shouldn't have left you. I should have grabbed your arm and forced you to listen to me tonight. No, I should have slapped you senseless when you forgot our anniversary two months ago. That's when all of this sort of started for me."

"I'm an idiot." He sat next to her.

"I agree, but that's not the point here," she said with a slight smile. "The point is that I should have opened up to you, but you've been in a sort of funk, and in a boring little marriage routine, and perhaps you're happy with it, but I'm not, Draco."

"What would you know about how I feel?" he asked.

She stood up, pointed at him, and said, "Exactly! I don't know much about you, or how you feel, and here we've been married a year. Don't you think that's sad?"

"Oh, you know everything there is about me," he said with anger. "I have no secrets. I'm talking about feelings."

She sighed and walked out into the main room. She curled up on the couch. He stayed in the bedroom and shouted, "So what are we to do about your sadness?"

She stuffed a pillow in her mouth and screamed.

He came in and said, "If you're hungry, I'll get us some food. You don't need to eat the furniture." She threw the pillow at him. He threw it back and plopped down on the couch. "Perhaps we just have different ideas of what marriage is, and maybe that's what we need to iron out. We'll take all weekend, and perhaps we can also rekindle our romance a bit. Go on little dates, like we did the weekend we fell in love."

"Which was when, Malfoy?" she asked.

"FINE! I know our anniversary now!" he said. "Must I tattoo it on my bum for you to realize that I'll never forget again?"

"That's a good idea." She removed her shoes and placed her feet under his leg. "How was Cam?"

"He was crying when I was there," he said truthfully.

"I miss him," she said.

"I do as well, but I think we need to work on us this weekend," he said.

She stood up and said, "Let's both make a list of what we want to accomplish this weekend." She went over to a bookshelf to look for some pens and paper.

"Granger, Granger, Granger, you stupid, stupid, Muggle-born," he said. He stood up. "We aren't going to heal our fractured relationship with 'lists'."

"No, but you might need to heal your broken leg if you call me stupid one more time," she said. She found a legal pad, and two pens, a red one and a blue one. She threw the blue one at him and it bounced off his chest. He bent over and picked it up.

"I read a book once…" she started. He interrupted.

"You read a book once? No. Really?" he said.

"I read a book about relationship building once," she continued, ignoring him, as she was used to doing. "Now grant it, it was about building work place relationships, but I think it's would work with us."

"Was it about how one person gets to boss the other ones around, because frankly, you already do that to me," he said. "You do it quite proficiently."

She shook her head. "Rule number one," she wrote across her paper. "No accusations!" She added three exclamation points and underlined it twice.

"Forget that," he said, pushing his piece of paper across the table. "Let's make love. I guarantee we'll solve all our problems making love."

"Number two," she said, trying to continue, "no making asinine Malfoy suggestions."

He laughed and said, "That book you read on work place relationships said 'No asinine Malfoy suggestions'? Really, Granger?" He laughed again.

"I'm just trying to make our rules for the weekend. I haven't gotten to the book yet, but on second thought," she said, frowning, "It was a stupid book, and the title said something about stealing cheese, so maybe it wouldn't apply to us."

"The title mentioned cheese? Was it a cook book?" he asked.

"No," she said, now smiling. "It really was about work place relationships.

"Was it about rats?" he asked.

"I told you, it had nothing to do with you," she said slyly. She pushed her piece of paper in the center to the table with his. She moved from her bench, to sit beside him on his. "I don't know, Malfoy. I just thought marriage would be better than this."

"Better?" he asked. He started to draw circles up on the top of her hand.

"Different, better, whatever. I thought I would have a built-in best friend. Remember when we talked about that. However, sometimes, I feel lonely. I guess I do feel a bit sad." She placed her head on the table.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I guess sometimes I do, too."

"Tell me why you're sad?" she asked. "Try to tell me the number one reason, and we'll work from there."

He was quiet for a moment and then said, "I think I try to avoid you a lot, and that makes me sad, because I want to be with you, I really do, but instead I go out of my way to avoid you."

"That statement makes me sad, too. Why?" she asked.

"I'm afraid of disappointing you. You get angry so often, and so well, and I think it's easier to avoid you, then to confront you," he admitted.

"Wow." She sat up. "Let's get right to the heart of the problem right in the first twenty minutes of the weekend." She stood up. "You think I'm angry all the time? You think I, what, pick on you, or am disappointed in you? What?" She sat back down and he took her hand again.

"All of the above," he said. "And to quote you, that might be my problem, or it might be yours, I don't know."

Hermione looked down at the table. She removed her hand out from under his and said, "I do tend to harp at you about things, but I think that sometimes you should just know what I want, and I'm tired of always telling you the same things repeatedly. I think sometimes you go out of your way to make me angry," she said truthfully.

"I'm not that smart," he said with a smile. "I have no clue what you want, ever."

Instead of getting angry, she laughed. "Hey, Malfoy, remember when we went on our honeymoon, and we played around with the idea of writing a relationship book?"

He laughed and said, "Hey, Granger, if we had, then we could just read it, and fix whatever problem we have now."

"Too, true," she said.

"Too, true," he repeated. "What type of things do you get tired of telling me?"

"I hate red wine, especially that brand you always get. I'm diabetic, you know, and alcohol isn't good for me, but you always get that same red wine, even though I prefer white wine. When I tell you I don't like that wine, you say that you forgot, and you pour me a glass anyway."

He frowned a bit and said, "I do that?"

"Come on!" She slapped his arm.

"I swear, I wasn't aware! Hit me upside the head the next time, and I'll remember." He was lying. He knew he did that. She looked ready to hit him upside the head now and he said, "Okay, I do that. I hate that you're a diabetic. Don't give me that look. I hate that you have to be sick, okay. I hate that you really can't have wine or alcohol, because it makes me confront the fact that you're ill, so I ignore it. That's why I do that. I won't anymore."

"Wow," she said. She stood up, pulled on his arm, and moved him over to the chair to the right of the fireplace. "One truthful admission from both of us, and I already feel better." She sat down on his lap.

"Happy yet?"

"No, just better." She stroked her fingers lightly down his face. "Now its time for you to tell me why you avoid me."

He placed his head on the back of the chair and looked up. He never answered. He closed his eyes. She leaned her face toward his and said, "Well?"

"I don't know, and if I say I don't know, you'll get angry," he said. "I might have to think about that one. I really think it is just the simple fact that I'm afraid that you're angry at me all the time, and you think I'm a disappointment. I think you often think I'm underfoot, and clingy to you, and I'm afraid you'll regret marrying me, so I try to give you space, and time to yourself."

"I think you answered that question very concisely, thank you, Malfoy," she said. "But let me tell you right here, right now, I'm not disappointed in you. I'm glad we married, and I want to spend time with you. If I wanted to be alone, I never would have married you, or I would have left you by now. Does that solve that problem for you?"

"Thanks, I think so. Thank goodness that means no more pretending that I'm building stuff in the tool shed on Saturdays. I go out there to give you space, but I can't build anything. I don't even know what a screwdriver does."

She laughed and leaned forward and kissed him. She moved so that her legs were across the arm of the chair. He placed his arm overtop of them. "Two problems solved already, and we've only been here less than an hour," she said. "Progress is being made. From now on, no avoiding each other, although I didn't know you were avoiding me, and I you. Frankly, I don't think avoidance is that bad of a thing, and I would never say it was the worst problem we have. Is that really your number one concern?"

"Knock, knock," he suddenly said.

"Who's there?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

She asked again, "Who's there?"

He glared at her.

"Damn it, Malfoy! Who's there?"

"Sorry, I was avoiding you, so you would see that it doesn't feel nice to be avoided. So now, we can move on, since we both know how bad it feels to be avoided." He poked her in the chest each time he said the word "avoid" and all of its derivatives.

She glared at him and said, "That's the worst 'knock/knock' joke I've ever heard."

"What's a knock/knock joke?" he asked with a serious face. He smiled slowly and said, "I need to start a list. Get off me. We'll make a list of the Ten Commandments of a Good Marriage, and we won't leave here this weekend until we've finished it, and agreed to each commandment on the list." He stood up, picked her up from his lap, threw her on the couch and went back to the table. He pulled his piece of parchment toward him and as he wrote he said, "The ten commandments to a good marriage. Number one, thou shall not avoid the other person."

"What about my discovery? Put it down, too," she said, while on her knees, and looking at him over the back of the couch.

"This covers both of our revelations. I avoided the fact that you were sick, and you avoided telling me that it really upsets you that I avoid you, and I avoid you because I thought I was being too intrusive in your life, and you avoided tell me that you needed me in your life. Hence, number one on my list, no avoiding." He rolled his eyes and said, "And people think I'm the dumb one."

Hermione said, "Number two, don't kill your husband when he's being an arse."


	3. Chapter 3

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 3:**

Hermione sighed and said, "I need to eat a bite of something. I'm feeling a bit headachy."

"Is that a word?" He followed her as she started into the little kitchenette. "Headachy."

"It is," she said. "It's in the dictionary. It's an adjective. Look it up when we get home. It really is in the dictionary." She started to rummage through the bags of groceries she had brought with her, and she pulled out some tea and some bread and jam.

"Sure it is. You always say that," he moaned, "although, you're usually right." He pushed her out of the way and said, "Have you checked your blood sugar tonight? Maybe that's why you're headachy."

"Yes, mother, I checked it before I left," she moaned. She was lying. She hadn't.

"Are you lying to me?" he asked, suspiciously.

"I'm fine, just hungry," she continued. She put the rest of the groceries away.

"Do you want me to cook you something?" he asked.

She laughed and said, "We've been married fourteen months, and you've cooked for me twice, and both times I strongly suspect that you had everything catered."

"How dare you accuse me of something so vile," he said, with a straight face. She glared at him and she went to the other room.

She came back with their list and said, "I want to add number two to the list. No lying." She wrote: 'No lying to your spouse for any reason', and then she unlined it.

He took the pen from her and crossed out the words, 'for any reason' and added, 'except when necessary, so to not hurt your spouse'. He handed it back to her and put water in the teakettle.

"Except when necessary?" she asked, pulling some bread out from the sack. "When is lying ever necessary?"

"You must have just felt it was necessary to lie to me about checking your blood sugar," he said.

"I didn't want you to worry," she explained.

"See, you felt it was necessary, thus that commandment must have an amendment: no lying except when necessary, so not to hurt the other party. And it's necessary sometimes to lie to your spouse, when you want to spare their feelings, or not hurt them," he explained. He put the teakettle on the stove to boil.

"Lying is never necessary, and in the long run, it just hurts people even more," she spouted.

He placed the teabags in the cups, and turned to her, to lean against the countertop. He said, "What if you ask me if I like your new hair, and I really don't, and I say that it looks like a flock of birds made a nest in it, and you cried? Wouldn't that be asking for heartache? Wouldn't that cause you undue pain? Wouldn't it be better, even if I didn't like it, if I said that it looked nice?"

"My hair looks like a flock of birds is in it?" she asked.

"That was an illustration, sweetness," he said. "How about last weekend, when you asked me if I liked that new white blouse on you. I said I did. Maybe the truth was that I didn't. So why can't I lie to save my wife heartache and pain?"

"What was wrong with that blouse?" she asked.

"The point is, everyone tells little white lies, and if they aren't mean or malicious, where's the harm?" he asked. He put the bread in the toaster.

"My mum liked that blouse," she said.

"And you do it too, I know you do," he said. "You spare people's feelings all the time, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Did it make me look fat?" she asked.

He shook his head and said, "I swear, we're having two different conversations. The blouse was actually fine. That was another example. A paradigm, if you will."

"Where did you hear that big word?" she asked with a sly smile.

"It's a real word. Look it up," he mocked.

"I will. How do you spell it?" she asked jokingly.

"P,A,R,A, D…" he stopped. "I don't know, but the dictionary will have it spelled right," he moaned.

She poured the hot water in their cups as he put their toast on two plates. He took the cups to the table in the outer room, as she took a jar of jam, and a knife, and followed him to the table.

He took the toast, and spread some jam on it, as she stirred their tea. It occurred to him that they worked well together. Like a well oiled machine. She took a bite of toast and said, "Now, tell me truthfully, why do you think it's okay to lie, even sometimes, even about the little things? I think you shouldn't lie under any circumstances."

He took a bite of his toast and added, "That would be hard, not to lie under _any_ circumstances. Tell me one time when one of my little lies hurt you, no better yet, tell me when one of my little lies was even discovered by you?"

"I wasn't aware that you lied a lot, so I can't give you an example right now," she said back.

"See, what you don't know won't hurt you," he said with a smile. He cupped her face with his hand and moved his thumb over her cheek.

"Tell me when you've lied recently, and how it was for the better, and don't mention that horrible white blouse again," she begged.

He asked, "Do you want each specific date and time of each lie for the last fourteen months?"

"One example, I said," she said with a roll of her eyes. Then she added, "Wait, have there been a lot since we've married?"

"I don't know. I don't want to talk about it any longer. Let's just cross that one out," he decided. He pulled the paper toward him, but she slapped her hand down on the paper.

She accused, "You're already breaking rule number one. No avoidance, Malfoy."

"May I drink my tea first?" he asked.

She pointed her toast at him and said, "Tell me the truth, when have you lied?"

He sighed and said, "Sod it all, Hermione. There's been a lot of little white lies, but nothing overly impressive, or life threatening. I'm sure all of my little lies will fall into some of the other categories we come up with, anyway. I couldn't give you a detailed account of each and every lie, because I don't exactly categorize them, and file them away for future use."

She finished her toast, and most of her tea, and then took her empty plate and cup to the kitchenette, and placed them in the sink. He was right behind her with his own. He hugged her from behind and said, "Okay. Remember when I was too ill to go to Scarhead and Little Red's anniversary party?" She turned in his arms. "I wasn't ill. I just didn't want to go, so I lied. I told you I was sick."

"You had a migraine," she said incredulously. "I know that wasn't a lie. You aren't that good of an actor. You had all the symptoms. You had light sensitivity…"

"Lie," he said, kissing one cheek.

"You had the pain mainly over one eye," she continued.

"Another lie," he said, kissing her jaw.

"You threw up!"

"That was acting, which some would say was a lie." He kissed her forehead. She pushed him away and he said, "You didn't see me throw up, Granger. You heard me. I was faking."

She frowned and said, "Your eyes were red, and watering. You said that noise made it worse. You said you saw waves when you closed your eyes. You had all the classic symptoms!"

He shrugged, and then kissed her neck. He looked at her again, his arms around her waist and he said, "I lied."

"I should know the difference between a migraine and a lie! I'M A HEALER!" she practically screamed.

"And a damn good one. How do you think I knew what to do? You've mentioned these things to me before," he said, with a ghost of a smile across his face. Her bottom lips went out in a pout, and he bit it gently, before kissing her mouth with a simple kiss. He patted her cheek and said, "Sweet, trusting girl."

"I hated going there by myself that night. Everyone else was paired off, and I felt like a fifth wheel. That wasn't nice. That hurt me. You said lies that didn't hurt people were okay, but that did hurt me," she reasoned.

"It only hurts now because you know about it now," he reasoned back.

"No, it hurt at the time, because I was alone. It hurts now, because I feel like a fool, because you deceived me. You could be lying when you say that you love me, or when you say that you want to spend time with me. You might be lying when you say that you love being a father."

"You're being a fool, because you know that I love you and Cyggy, so don't pull that one, and I promise, I won't do it again," he said, and at that moment, he meant it.

"Maybe I don't believe you now," she said back.

"Then you have to trust me."

"You're probably lying," she said softly.

"Lying about trusting? I wouldn't do that," he countered. "You'll just have to trust that I won't lie again. Not about the big things. Let's change it to that." He took his wand and changed number two to say, 'No lying about anything that will hurt your spouse, or cause them not to trust you, unless the lie will keep them from getting hurt.' He added, "There, that covers it."

"Trust should be its own commandment, but okay," she said. She stood up and said, "Let's work on trust for a moment, in case we want to put it down for number three. There's an exercise from that book I read, which proves that you have the ultimate trust in your partner. You fall backward, and you trust that the other person will catch you. It's to see if a person really can put all his or her trust into another person's hands. Trust them with your life, and all. Let's try it."

She pulled him from the bench, toward the middle of the room. She stood in front of him and said, "I'll stand with my back toward you, and then I'll fall backwards, and close my eyes, and I'll trust that you'll catch me." She turned around. He put his wand down hastily, and then put out his arms in time to catch her.

"You didn't give me notice that you were going to fall!" he said as he stood her up.

"Now it's your turn," she said. "Turn around, and I'll catch you."

He smirked and said, "With those little arms. You won't catch me."

"You have to trust me!" she said. She turned him around, swatted his bottom and then said, "Now, go."

He looked back once, she smiled, then he faced the other way, crossed his arm, closed his eyes and he fell backwards, where he landed with a resounding thump right on his bum. She didn't even try to catch him.

"OW!" he cried out from the floor.

He looked up at her. She looked down at him. She smiled and said, "I lied when I said I would catch you. Now do you agree with me that all lying is bad?"

"I hate you," he whined from the floor.

She stepped over him, and with her wand, she changed number two on their list before she said, "I think we're making progress. Are you up for a bath?" She stepped over him and walked over to the little bathroom.

He stayed on the floor and said, "That little lie didn't keep me from getting hurt. It just plain, old hurt." He stood up, added a quick number three to their list, and then he picked it up took it with him into the bathroom.

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Trust your spouse, even if they are a horrible person named Hermione.


	4. Chapter 4

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 4:**

Draco looked around the small, practical bathroom, and then he stepped back out. He looked around the small, square hallway, and then stepped back in as Hermione was brushing her teeth.

She looked over at him, and he looked confused. He stepped back out and then stepped back in, again. He stepped back out a third time. This time, she leaned away from the sink to look at him. He went to the main room, then took two steps to the bathroom door, three steps to the wall of the bathroom, and then turned to his wife and said, "Five steps! I went from the main room, through the hall, to the end of the bathroom in five steps! My shower at home is bigger than that!"

Then he pointed to the small, metal shower, which had a white shower curtain in front. "What the hell is that?"

"A shower," she answered, spitting out her toothpaste and patting her mouth dry with a towel.

"I thought we were coming in here to take a bath together! I doubt you would fit in there by yourself, let alone with me!" he accused.

Hermione smiled and said, "I just meant that we could continue our conversation while I took a quick shower."

"Where am I supposed to sit?" he practically shouted.

She pointed to the closed seat on top of the toilet.

He shook his head and said, "Seriously, is there another bathroom here? I can't spend the whole weekend here with this bathroom! This bathroom makes the Weasley's bathroom look like a palace!"

"What is with you and bathrooms, seriously?" Hermione began to peel away her clothing. Once in her knickers and bra, she turned on the shower. She went to the bedroom to get soap, shampoo, and a nightgown. She came back in, and he was still standing in the small room, mouth still agape, and shock registering his entire countenance.

She took off the rest of her clothing and went into the shower.

He turned around slowly, and then he reached over to one wall with his hand, and then touched the other wall with the other hand and said, "I can touch one wall and the other wall on the other side of the room at the same time! I can tell Cyggy about this one day. Hey, chap, did you know that your dad could touch one wall of a room, at the same time that he touched another one, and it's not because he has long arms. It's because the room is the size of a broom cupboard!"

Hermione poked her shampooed head out of the shower, shook her head at him, and then placed it back in.

He turned in a circle again and then he got down on his knees. He lay back, on his back, and then said, "Look, Hermione!"

She looked out again. "I'm as long as the whole room! In fact, my head is touching the wall at this end, and my feet are hanging out of the door. Wait, let me do something." He placed his hands on the wall again. "My stars! I'm the size of this whole room!"

She threw her wet washcloth right at his face. He sat up, as she turned off the shower and wrapped her body with a towel. She stepped over his legs and said, "What a nice little conversation we had in the bath, Draco." She grabbed her nightgown and went into the bedroom, leaving him on the floor.

"Little is right," he said back. He scrambled to his feet, picked up their list where he placed it on the floor, and walked into the little bedroom with her. She was already in her nightgown, and was combing her hair while sitting on the bed.

"Whose cabin is this?" he asked.

"It's my father's hunting cabin, although he doesn't hunt. He calls it that, to feel manly, I guess. He comes up here to be alone, and commune with nature," she explained.

"He apparently doesn't care about being comfortable while he's here. I think for his next birthday I'll have the whole thing gutted and remodeled," Draco said seriously.

"You do that," she said with condescension. He placed the list on the bed, crawled up behind her, took the comb from her hand, and began to comb out her long, brown hair. He loved combing her hair. He started with the teeth of the comb at the crown of her head, and let it slip down to the end. He repeated the motion all around her head, until the tangles were gone. He kissed her still slightly damp shoulder, and then placed his arms around her.

She looked up into his eyes. He said, "Do you mind if I do some magical renovation on the bath before I take a shower?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. She said, "You're irritating me, and I'm wondering, are you doing it on purpose? Do you think you're being funny, or charming, or endearing, because frankly, at the moment, you're only succeeding in making me tired."

"Okay, thanks for the honesty. I guess you took number two from our list to heart. Now let's make number three say something about not purposely hurting your spouse's feelings, shall we?" he said seriously.

"I thought number three was about trust," she said. She picked up the list where he placed it by his leg on the bed, read what he wrote, gave him a disdainful look over her shoulder, and she stood up to get her wand. She took off his third commandment.

He lay on the bed and patted the space beside him, to show her that he wanted her to join him.

Instead of joining him, she said, "Shoes off the bed."

"Yes, Mother," he said while kicking off his shoes. Then he said, "You're never any fun anymore."

She was putting lotion on her arms, but that statement made her look up, surprised. "What did you say?"

He sat up on the bed again and repeated, "I said, yes, Mother."

"No after that," she said. "That hurt my feelings, you know."

"If you heard me, why do I have to repeat it?" he asked. "Anyhow, you hurt my feelings a bit ago, when you said that I was irritating you. As much as my tomfoolery bothers you, your stick-in-the-muddiness bothers me, and yes," he continued, leaning on his elbow, "I know stick-in-the-muddiness isn't a real word or statement and before you get totally Hermione on my arse, I wasn't referring to your Mudbloodness, although if it applies in this case, it just does. So there." He scooted off the bed and went to the bathroom.

She sat on the bed and cried.

He was about to turn on the shower, but he heard her crying, and he was suddenly upset with himself. He _**was **_trying to irritate her in the bathroom. He wasn't trying to be funny or charming. He wasn't being obtuse or glib. He was making fun of the size of the bathroom for two reasons. One, it was small and that did bother him, and two, he knew it would irritate her.

Then, he said that mean thing about her not being any fun anymore, and even though he really thought it was true, it was mean for him to say it in such a way, and the Mudblood comment was bang out of line.

He placed his forehead on the door, debating whether to go say he was sorry. He decided to get his shower instead. He showered, and pulled on clean pants and a t-shirt, and he made his way back to the bedroom.

She was on her side, facing away from the door, toward the wall. She wasn't asleep, because he knew that when she was on her side, it was because she was upset. She always slept on her back, but she wallowed on her side.

He came to lie beside her, on the outside of the covers, and he moved his hand down her still damp hair, to her shoulder, her arm, wrist, and then hand. He held her hand, and he spooned up against her. He placed his cheek on her cheek, kissed it once, and said, "I'm an arse. I'm so sorry."

"You said you would never call me that word again, not in anger or as a joke. I don't know which that was, but whatever it was, it wasn't nice, Draco," she said. "I don't even care that you think I'm no fun. Hell, I don't think I'm a barrel of laughs either, and maybe I've never been, and though it still hurts for you to say so, it hurts worse for you to call me that name."

"I know. I also know what number three should be," he said, his hand now lightly traveling down her hip, then back up her arm. He kissed her neck and said, "Remember when we were staying with your mum and dad, and you said that they make a point never to go to bed angry, or with unresolved problems, and that no matter what, they apologize before the day ends. I think we should make that number three."

She turned to her back. She took one of his hands in hers, and she played with his fingers. "I think that's good. We should make it a point never to go to bed angry with the other, or with unresolved feelings. There's a lot more we could put there, like no calling each other mean names on purpose, and that we should try to make the other laugh or smile at least once a day, but perhaps those things could be other commandments."

She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed his palm, before closing her hands back around his one, and turning to face him. "I want to have fun with you again, Draco. That weekend at the Burrow, when we fell in love, was the happiest time of my life, and I had more fun wrapped up in that one weekend than I had ever had, and do you know why?"

He raised his eyebrows and said, "Because of the bloody, fabulous company?"

"No, well, yes, but mainly because I let myself have fun. I let myself be free and do things I normally wouldn't do, and damn the torpedoes, or in other words, I didn't care what the consequences would be. I want to be carefree like that again. I really do. Will you help me?"

She looked so young, sweet, and pretty, and he thought that if he could do nothing else in his life, the least he could do was to make her happy. "I'll try, Hermione. I'll really try." He leaned toward her and kissed her lips. They tasted like the sweetest thing in the whole world to him.

The rain continued to come down in sheets, and pinged against the windowpanes, as a crack of thunder broke through the night. She smiled at him. She loved thunderstorms, and he did not. She said, "Let's name three things that one of us loves, and that the other hates. Things that still make us an unlikely pair. I'll start. I love thunderstorms."

"And I say," he started, "that you're mad, woman. Thunderstorms are the antithesis of a beautiful day, and wouldn't you rather have a beautiful, sunny day, than a terrible, cold, rainy, thunderstorm?"

She smiled and said, "But I get to be with you, cuddled in your arms, safe and sound inside, while the world feels like it's exploding all around me, but I know it can't touch me, and that I'll never come to harm, as long as I'm safe in my little haven."

"A bolt of lightning could catch the cabin on fire. That's not very safe," he said.

She smoothed down his wet hair and smiled. "So, that's one thing we disagree on, and therefore, we're still an unlikely pair," she said with a smile.

"You want to be an unlikely pair?" he asked.

"I want to rekindle that weekend at the Burrow, and we had so many opposing thoughts and feelings and views, and yet, we fell in love. You think of something now," she said. She placed her head on his shoulder. She pushed the covers off her upper body, so that they only covered her legs.

"I love warm weather. I can't stand to be cold." He played with the buttons at the neck of her nightgown as he continued. "I feel like I was cold the entire time I grew up, and whether it's a metaphor, or just the fact that I grew up in an actual cold home, I crave warmth. You love cold weather. You claim winter is your favourite time of year. You like wearing sweaters, and wool socks, and mittens, and drinking hot chocolate. That's a good example of how different we are."

She laughed and looked up at him and said, "I love snow too, remember?"

"Crazy girl," he said.

"I have one," she said in earnest. She got up on her elbow, propped on her side, and stared down at him. "I love to read, really read, in fact, I'll read some books over and over, year after year. Even though I know the outcome, I can't wait to read a favourite old book again and again. You like to read, too, but once you've read a book, you don't even want to keep it. You've thrown books you've already read in the rubbish before, which is sacrilegious, in my opinion. Old books, favourite books, are like dear old friends to me, which I greet with a renewed vigor each time I read them. It's only new books for Malfoy."

"That's a good one. I never gave that one much thought," he complimented. He said, "You know, this should really be the third commandment. Each night, before we go to sleep, we have to say one nice thing, or one thing we love, about the other. That goes hand in hand with our other suggestion, of not going to bed angry, because if you have to say something nice, genuinely nice, to the other person, something you really like about them, before bed each night, then you can't possibly go to bed angry."

He removed her from his embrace, and took the piece of paper from the end of the bed. He wrote down their new number three, showed it to her, received a smile from her in exchange, and then he said, "Now, you need to have sex with me before we go to sleep. That's going to be our number four."

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione:**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 5:**

Another loud boom of thunder shook the little cabin on the hillside. The two occupants in the bedroom, who were totally mesmerized with only one thing, the other person, ignored the sounds of tree limbs scrapping against the windowpanes and the roof, and the sounds of the thunder and the lightning.

They both lay on their sides, facing the other. Hermione smiled at her husband and he smiled back. They started to touch each other, tentative, fleeting touches. Touches that held love and promise. Touches that expressed more than mere feelings, but intentions. Draco continued to smile at his wife, and he finally leaned forward and kissed her. She smiled back, leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, "I love you."

He smiled once more, or perhaps his smile had not yet left his face, and he said, "That's good."

"Do you love me?" she asked. Her fingers were on his face, drawing circles on his cheek.

"Most of the time," he said as a joke.

"What do you feel for me the rest of the time?" she asked, amused. She propped up on her elbow, and bit her bottom lip to wait for his answer.

He mirrored her body, propped on his elbow and said, "Hell, I guess the times I don't love you, which isn't often, I at least feel fondly for you. Who would have thought it was possible?" He cocked an eyebrow and reached for her ribs to tickle her. She slapped his hand away.

"What should our fourth commandment be?" she asked. "Because I have a true suggestion."

"Carry on," he said, still smiling like an idiot. He interjected, "but I still think it should have something to do with sex."

She sighed and said, "The likelihood of you getting lucky tonight is already close to 97 percent, so don't fear."

"Why is it only 97 percent?" he asked, finally frowning.

She looked perturbed and said, "Maybe if you loved me 100 percent of the time you would have a surefire chance at getting lucky."

"In that case, I love you all the time," he said. "Now can we have sex tonight?"

"Do you want to hear my number four?" she asked. She started to trace circles on his arm again. He placed his head on the pillow, but remained on his side. He nodded for her to tell him her suggestion.

"Okay," she said. "I think that all major life decisions, things that affect us both, and our marriage, our family, our livelihood, our peace of mind, should be made together. No one person should have more say than the other should. For instance, I know I haven't gone back to work yet, and I may not want to go back until Cam is older, and so that means I no longer bring money into our marriage, but anything big, like buying cars, houses, things like that, should still be a joint decision, don't you think?"

He sat up. "First, your paltry little salary hardly made a dent in our income to begin with…"

Now she interrupted by saying, "I made more money than you do!"

"Sure, my Auror income is a joke, but I mean my inheritance," he explained, "but what I was about to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, was that I never made a big deal about that to begin with. It's always been our money, not my money. I have never been upset when you want to spend money, but I have to say, if I want to go out and buy a new car, or a gift for you, I should be able to do it, without consulting you."

He continued, "It would be different if we had money problems, and I squandered our money, but we don't, and I don't, so I won't, okay?"

"Maybe the car thing was a bad example," she explained. "I don't really care if you go out and buy a new car every other day, although, you now have twenty-one cars, Draco, so really, that's enough." She sat up as well and turned slightly in the bed, to face him, her legs crossed under her.

"What I meant," she started, "was that life decisions, that affect us both, should be shared by us both, and we should both carry the burden of decisions made, and share the load, so to speak. We should decide things together, like things about Cam, his schooling someday, decorating the house, and even things like, oh, I don't know, more kids someday. Don't you see, that's what I mean?"

He thought for a moment and said, "We've never really discussed having more kids, and Cyggy was a complete surprise, but do you want more kids?"

"Do you?" she asked.

"I asked you first," he smiled.

"I want more," she said concisely.

"Let's get started!" he shouted. He pushed her over, and jumped on top of her. He kissed her hard and then he raised his head and smiled.

She pushed against him with her hands and said, "Sex after you agree to that being our number four!"

He almost growled, jumped from the bed, and added it to their list. He showed her what he wrote, and then he placed the list on the dresser, jumped back on the bed, and said, "Sex. Let's agree, mutually, to have sex now." He wiggled back under the covers, and moved back to his side, as before, his head back on the pillow, and she joined him.

His hand moved up and down her arm as he kissed all around her face. He made a circular movement, kissing her eyes, her cheek, her chin, her mouth, the other cheek, and then her forehead. His hand went to her back to push her closer. He moved to his back, and she moved partially on top of him.

She propped up on her elbows. She took a moment to stare down at him. This part of their relationship was as good as ever. This part of their marriage was not fractured in the least. Hermione said, "Let me make love to you."

He puckered his lips, gave her a slight smile, and then propped his hands behind his head and said, "Commence with the love making, and please, remember, I'm a sensitive chap, and you must pay special attention to my wants and needs."

She laughed, buried her head in his chest and when she looked up she said, "You're as sensitive as a two-headed troll."

He frowned and with his hands low on her back, he smacked her bum hard with one hand and said, "I bet a two-headed troll is very sensitive. The other trolls probably make terrible fun of the poor thing."

"Fine, you're sensitive," she said. She kissed his lips lightly, and then moved to sit low on his hips. She moved both hands under his t-shirt, onto his stomach and chest. She circled both nipples gently with the middle fingers of both hands. His hands went up and down her sides. She moved the hem of his shirt upward, and with a slight movement of his upper body, she deposited it on the floor.

"Please removed your nightgown now," he said softly.

"I'm in charge here," she said. "So, have patience."

"Merlin," he moaned, as she put her mouth on one of his nipples and moved her tongue around it. "Please don't tell me patience is commandment number five. I would die if it was, because I have no patience, especially at the moment."

She looked up at him, her chin on his chest, and she smiled again and said, "Patience is a virtue."

"Since when could I ever be described as virtuous?" he asked sincerely.

He inhaled slowly as she guided her mouth down the center of his stomach. With self-assurance, borne from trust, she kissed his navel, and then with her hands on the waistband of his jeans, she slipped her fingers underneath, went to his button, and unbuttoned the top of the fly.

"Granger," he said with a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You wanton woman, you."

She slipped his slacks off his hips, with little help from him, and threw them to the floor. "I think…" he started only to stop, when she started something else. Goodness, his wife was a talented little thing.

She stopped her pursuits, lifted her head and said, "You were saying?"

"Nothing, nothing, continue, continue," he said, and then he laughed. "My thoughts fly out of my head when you do things like that. Which is fine." He closed his eyes again, and placed his hands on her head, while she continued.

While her mouth was busy, her hands went up and down his stomach and chest. She finally lifted her head, but replaced her mouth with her hand. She grasped him strongly, running her fingers up and down, and over his tip. He looked down at her and said, "Is this all about power, or shall I join you now? Didn't we just discuss sharing the load, making mutual decisions, etc?"

She skimmed back up to his chest, placed her body on his and said, "Kiss me, Draco." He held her head in his hands and kissed her mouth with a wet, open kiss that felt a bit desperate, and wholly right. Her hand stayed on him and continued to stroke him and pull on him as he continued kissing her. He captured her tongue and sucked on it hard. He had to push her away and he grimaced, his jaw tight.

"That's enough for now, or I might explode, literally." She let go of him, and stayed on her side while he took a moment to recover. He pushed her with one hand and said, "You will pay for that."

"Gladly," she said without complaint.

Her fingers grasped his shoulders as he kissed the hollow of her throat and her breasts. She laughed and then pushed him on his back again. "Hey!" he almost shouted.

She straddled him, and for a moment, she didn't move. She enveloped him fully, his heat permeated her senses, and she stayed like that, until he placed his hands on her hips and began to move her up and down. He would show her who the boss was.

She leaned forward, and kissed him again, and then she ground herself against him, and sat back up, as his hands went up to claim her breasts. He continued to help her rise and fall, until she started to shudder against him, and he grew more impatient and more urgent. He picked her up, left her, pushed her on her back, and then he pounded into her again. He pushed into her with a renewed vigor and pleasure, and she tilted her hips upward to meet each thrust.

He looked right into her eyes. She gazed back into his. She said, "Don't you dare look away."

"Yes, ma'am," he growled. So it was, their eyes locked, no coherent thoughts in either of their minds, only the feeling of love and completion passing between them.

He leaned forward and kissed her once more, right before they came, at the same time. He dropped his weight on her, and she laughed. She laughed! He couldn't breath, but somehow, she laughed. He managed to say, "How do you like that for mutual decisions?"

She hit his shoulder and said, "Off!"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated again. He rolled off her, but kept a leg over her, and his hand on her stomach.

She turned to her side, and he encased her even closer to him, his limbs tangled with hers. She rained small kisses all over his face and neck. She said, "Commandment number four is a good one, don't you agree?"

"Whatever," he said. He smiled, and then went to his back, pulled her into his side, and shut his eyes. Her head lolled against his shoulder. She listened for the steady sounds of his breathing. She knew he was asleep. She leaned over, kissed his lips, and then she slid from the bed. She picked up his t-shirt, slipped it over her, and went to the bathroom.

When she went back to the main room, she looked at the old clock on the mantle. It was after one in the morning. She went back to the bedroom, slipped on her jeans and shoes, kept his t-shirt on, and slipped on her jacket. She walked as quietly as she could to the front porch, leaving the front door slightly ajar. The rain looked as if it would never cease. She sat on the little wooden loveseat, which sat under the windows on the front porch, and she put her arms around her tightly. Then for some odd reason, she began to cry. She didn't even know why she was crying.

Draco woke up, arms empty, belly rumbling, and slightly confused as to where he was. He slipped out of bed, grabbed his jeans, couldn't find his shirt, so he took the blanket from the bed, wrapped it around his shoulders, and went to look for his wife. The little clock on the mantle showed it was twenty-four minutes after one. He said, "Hermione?" Where could she be?

He sighed, and then saw that the front door was opened, just a crack. He opened it further, and saw her on the front porch. The rain was beating against the stone steps, and it was even raining in on her a bit, but she seemed oblivious, because she was crying again. What was wrong with his wife? He really wanted to know.

He stood in the doorway and said, "What's wrong, Hermione?"

She looked up at him and said, "I think I've already broke all four commandments."

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person. Now, let's have sex!


	6. Chapter 6

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 6:**

He stood in the doorway and said, "What's wrong, Hermione?"

She looked up at him and said, "I think I've already broke all four commandments."

He didn't even know where to go from a statement like that. He didn't know what he should say, ask, or do. He stood in the doorway for a moment longer, and then he left the door opened, and joined her on the porch. "Move over," he commanded as he sat next to her. He put the blanket around them both, moved her so that her back rested against his chest, and placed his arms around her. He couldn't look in her eyes in this position, and he thought that perhaps that was for the best.

He waited to see if she would say anything else, but when no other revealing statements followed, he said, "What's wrong, please, just say it outright."

She took a clearing breath, and sniffled once. She moved so that they were sitting side by side. She removed the blanket from her shoulders, and tucked it back around him. She said, "I want another child."

"Okay. We can discuss that," he said seriously. He thought, 'so far, that's not too bad.' He even thought that they had already had this innocent conversation, a while ago, in the bedroom. However, he knew that his wife was not a reactionary person, so there had to be more to her statement than that.

"I decided, on my own, without consulting you, that I would try to get pregnant, almost right after Cygnus was born," she revealed.

He looked upwards for a moment, to compose himself, and said, "That means you broke number four. The one you yourself just suggested for us, but we'll get back to that. Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

She rubbed her forehead and said, "I always thought that if I had more than one child, I wanted my children to be close in age, a year apart at the most. That way, they could go to school together, be good friends, and rely on each other. It was either having children close together, or only having one in my book."

"Again, why is this the first I'm hearing of this…wait, so the fact that you avoided telling me this is what, commandment number one broken, right?" he asked.

"Forget that, because after I'm done, you'll see that all four were broken," she reminded. She stood up to face him. The storm had past the worst part…thunder was gone, lightning non-existent, but the rain was still coming down in sheets. Her back was soon wet. She didn't care.

She said, "I'm just now telling you this, because I thought you would be angry."

"Assuming I would be angry can't be the reason you haven't told me that you'll trying to get pregnant again, Hermione." He was slightly peeved. He stood up as well. The blanket dropped to the floor of the porch, and he didn't care. "You aren't afraid of my anger, so tell me the real reason."

"That is the real reason," she said.

"That doesn't make sense," he began, "because I have never said anything negative about having more than one child, so please, stop talking in circles. I know there's more to this story. There always is with you."

She sat back down. He did as well. She looked down. He made an annoyed sound and stood back up. She finally said, "I didn't tell you, because my healer, Dr. Carlisle, said that I should never try to have another child. It would be dangerous to my health. My diabetes has been very hard to regulate lately, something else I've been hiding from you, and he said that if I got pregnant again, I could have problems."

He felt extreme anger and fear, but kept them in check to ask, "What sort of problems?"

"I could go into kidney failure, because I had some kidney function tests done a couple of months ago, and they didn't have the best results. Likewise, I could go into heart failure, or a whole host of problems. It's very difficult for a woman with diabetes to keep her diabetes under control while pregnant."

"Could you die?" he asked hastily.

She stared at him, her mouth slightly open. This was the part of the conversation that she had been avoiding and fearing.

He grabbed her arms, brought her to stand in front of him and repeated, a bit louder, and with more emphasis, "**Could you die?"**

She merely nodded.

He actually pushed her away from him. She stumbled backwards and landed hard on the wooden loveseat. He picked up the blanket, and turned to walk inside, but not before yelling, "You're the most selfish person I've ever met, Granger!" He slammed the door shut and she wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him lock it, which wouldn't be a problem if she had her wand, but she didn't.

She stayed on the bench and stared out at the dark, rainy night. She felt ashamed, because he was right, so very, very, right.

He threw the now wet blanket on the floor. He kicked one of the benches over, and he picked up the table and toppled it over as well. He yelled and screamed. He even called her a few choice names. He went to the bedroom, and opened his luggage, took out a long sleeve t-shirt, pulled it over his head, and put on his shoes and socks. He was ready to leave the cabin, just disapparate away, when he heard her rapping on the windowpane. He turned to see her staring in the bedroom window.

Her hair was plastered to her face. She was in the pouring rain. He threw his bag down on the floor, and went out to the main room and unlocked the door. He sat on the small bed in the corner of the main room to wait for her to come inside.

She finally did. She went to the bedroom, came back out a few moments later, perfectly dried, and back into her nightgown. She sat next to him on the small bed in the corner of the room, held his hand and said, "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that I don't really know you very well," he said. He turned her hand over, and while he held it with his left hand, he traced the lines of her palm with his right index finger. "I'm thinking that everyone always thinks that I'm the irrational one, and the spoiled one, and the selfish one, but that's not true at all. I think that you think you're so much better than everyone else, and so much smarter, and you think that you know more than the other healers do. I'm thinking that you're pompous, and irrational, and bugger it all, Granger, you must not love me as much as I love you, because If I were to do something that might kill me, I would consult you first, not only would I consult you first, but I would put your feelings before my own. That's what I'm thinking."

She had never heard him speak so precisely and accurately as he just had, and she knew everything he had just said was the truth, so she couldn't even defend herself. She felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry. I've wanted to talk to you for a while, and in fact, on the night of our anniversary, I was going to tell you that I had gone to the healer and that he advised me not to get pregnant again, but well, you know what happened that night."

He dropped her hand as if it was on fire and stood quickly, spun to face her, and said, "My stars, Granger, we didn't use contraception tonight! We never do! You could be pregnant as we speak!" He walked away from her and said, "I'll just go out and get one of those Muggle vasectomy thingies. I won't let you have anymore of my sperm!"

For some reason, that made Hermione laugh. She started to laugh and couldn't stop.

"Hey!" he barked. He walked up to her and pushed on her shoulder as she continued to laugh from her place sitting on the side of the bed. "I'm serious, you know. It's my body, I'll do what I want with it, and I consulted you just now, so unlike you, I haven't broken any commandments! My little swimmers are staying safely inside my penis!"

She howled louder. Through her laughter, she said, "That's not exactly how it works."

"Yeah, well, whatever, they're staying away from your eggs, because Cyggy and I can't survive without you, you stupid woman." He went over to the other side of the room and picked up the table and the bench. He said, "And until I can get the operation done, I'm strictly forbidding you from touching me in any sexual way. So, stay away." He pointed at her.

She had finally stopped laughing and said, "You could just use a contraception spell, or there's an equivalent magical procedure, that works like a vasectomy, but isn't quite as permanent, or invasive."

"I don't even know what invasive means, but whatever, no touching me, you got that?" He walked around the room, anger still pent up inside him, even though she was still laughing. Why was she still laughing? "Why are you still laughing?"

"I don't know," she finally said. Then, she yawned. "I've been so afraid to discuss this with you, but now I see it went pretty well."

"Oh really?" he mocked. "I would hate to see what you consider 'not pretty well'." He sighed and sat beside her again. "Really, what would you have done if you had gotten pregnant? Would you have even told me of the dangers and the risks, because frankly, Granger, I have to know what type of things you intend to keep from me during our marriage? If you would keep something like this a secret, and lie about it, what does that say about our future together?"

Hermione thought about that and came to one cpnclusion: When he was right, he was right, damn him.

She stood and went to the bedroom. She came out with their list. She said, "Okay, here's number five." She wrote something on the bottom of the page and then before handing it to him she said, "It's all about selfishness, and give and take, and considering other's feelings before your own. There's something called the golden rule, and it goes, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you'. I can't steal that one outright, so I paraphrased."

He took the paper from her outstretched hand and said, "I know you think I'm a long lost cousin of the prince of darkness, Granger, but I am well aware of the golden rule, golden girl." He read what she wrote and handed it back. "Not bad, it has merit. Will you stop trying to get pregnant, now?"

"I already have. I finally decided to listen to my instincts, and my healer, and I went on birth control about two weeks ago, but still, I have wanted to talk to you about this for a while," she admitted.

"Hey, that means my little swimmers can get acquainted with your little eggs again!" he said, sounding pleased.

"Yes, and no, snip, snip, cut, cut," she said.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"A vasectomy," she answered. He still looked confused. She made a 'scissor' movement with her fingers and said, "You know, during a vasectomy, a surgeon numbs the scrotum and then makes one or two small incisions, to gain access to the vas deferens, or the sperm duct. Then the tubes are cut and sealed by tying, stitching and then burning the ends, to prevent the sperm from entering the seminal stream."

"WHAT?" he yelled.

"A vasectomy," she reiterated, "is a procedure that makes sure that sperm can no longer exit the body through the penis, but the testes remain in the scrotum, you know."

"What the hell are you taking about?" Draco shouted. "They cut your, your, thing?"

"Not my thing. I don't have a thing," she said with a smile.

"The CUT IT?" he yelled. "How barbaric! No wonder there are so many little Muggles running around out there! The Muggle men are afraid of cut, cut, snip, snip. And what was that whole burning thing you mentioned?"

"They cauterize the ends," she said.

"I don't even know what that word means, nor do I wish to know," he said. "You really are on contraception, right?"

She nodded, still with a grin.

"Good. I don't think I could ever have a vasectomy," he said with a relieved sigh.

"I'm sure you couldn't," she said. "I'm no longer sleepy, are you?"

"Not really, but I have to admit, if you're in the mood for sex, I'm still pondering the whole incision, cauterizing, sperm in the seminal stream thing, so I am so not in the mood for sex," he said truthfully.

"I was thinking maybe we could play a game," she suggested.

He looked at her closely and then said, "Sure, what do you want to play?"

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it took so long to post a new chapter. In the past two weeks I've only had one day off work, which was Easter, but I have a long weekend right now, so you'll get another chapter of this one on Monday. I plan to keep this story a bit shorter. It will end with the end of the commandments, I think. Neither this story, or my other new one, is getting hardly any hits (not many people are reading) so I think it's better to keep them short and move on to another story. Thanks!!!_


	7. Chapter 7

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 7:**

Draco looked at the clock on the mantel. It was almost two in the morning. He said, "Is this game a sedentary game, or will we be running around, because we have to get to sleep sometime?" he asked.

"Climb in," she said. She moved off the small bed, and pulled back the covers, to lay flush against the wall. He removed his shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans, and when he was down to his boxers, he turned to the fireplace, stoked the fire with his wand, and joined her, so that he was on the outside of the bed, toward the room. He pulled the covers over them both.

"This reminds me of the first time we made love, in that small bed in the Weasley twin's old bedroom," he remarked. "Why is there a bed in this room?"

"My mother and I came here twice with my dad, once when I was eight or nine, and once when I was fourteen, and I slept out here. There was only a couch before then, but my dad had this small bed put in just for me. I think when he comes here, he actually sleeps out here."

She moved to her side, to give him more room, which he gladly accepted. Then she placed her head on his chest, her hand on his stomach. "Okay, this game is simple, but it's hard to explain how to play."

"Ugh," he groaned. "You want to make me go to sleep, right?"

She hit his chest and said, "Just listen. The game is called 'the name of the game is,' and what we do is, one person has to ask the other one a series of questions, a predetermined number, and at the end, they have to decide what the name of the game is." She got up on her elbow as he turned to look at her.

She continued. "For instance, if it's my turn, I could decide that the name of the game is, 'I'm Harry Potter', and then what you do is ask me questions, any type of ordinary questions, and instead of answering them as myself, if the name of the game is, 'I'm Harry Potter', I have to answer as him. If you ask me if I wear glasses, I would say yes, even though I don't."

"If I ask you if you're a pain in the arse, pompous git, you would say yes," he joked.

"That's if the name of the game is, 'I'm Draco Malfoy'," she joked back.

"I still don't really understand," he said, stifling a yawn, "but seriously, I'm getting sleepier by the second."

"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "If I decide the name of the game is to answer as the opposite of the truth, then the name of the game would be, 'I'm answering the opposite," so if you ask me if I'm a female, I would say no. If you asked my if I'm smart, I would say no. After you ask all the questions, you guess what the name of the game is. Come on, you have to understand."

"Can we only answer as people?" he asked.

She made a disgruntled noise and said, "No, because I just gave an example where the name of the game is to answer the opposite. Goodness, even Harry and Ron picked up on this game faster than you have, and they were kids back when we played it." She sat up and actually placed her legs across his midsection. He placed his right hand over her legs; his left hand went up to rub her thigh.

She continued, "The name of the game could be to answer as a bird, so if you ask me if I fly, I would say…"

He interrupted and said, "You would say, no, because I'm scared to death of heights."

"NO!" She slapped his hand away from her thigh. "I would answer yes, because the name of the game is 'I'm a bird'. Do you really not understand? I might answer everything as Shakespeare, or if you play with a group of people, everyone might answer the questions as the person next to them, so the name of the game might be, 'I'm the person next to me', or I might answer everything as the person asking the questions, or I might scratch a part of my body when I answer, but answer as myself, which then the name of the game is, 'I'm answering as myself with an itch'."

"That was a long sentence," he said. "I understand. I'll ask first. Do you know what you're answering as?" he asked.

"No, give me a second." She thought for a moment, and when he made a fake snoring noise she said, "Go, I have it."

"Are you a woman?" he asked.

"No," she answered, with a smile. She moved back to lie next to him on the bed. He turned to face her.

"Are you someone I know?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Are you living?"

"If you know me, then yes," she answered.

He made a face and said, "Are you a wizard?"

"Yes," she answered, "but the questions don't have to be yes or no answers. You could ask me where I was born, or what my hobbies are, or anything like that."

"What if I want to ask yes or no questions?" he asked her. He really did think that he had to. He wasn't sure she explained otherwise in her lengthy explanation. "May I continue?"

She motioned for him to continue by flicking his forehead with her middle finger.

"Did we go to school together?" he asked.

"No, but we went to the same school," she volunteered.

"Are you a person that I would associate with?" he asked.

"I'm appalled that you ended a sentence with a preposition," she said.

"What?"

"That's my answer," she explained. "I'm appalled that you're not showing the proper respect to the English language that we normally do, Draco. I'm ashamed of you, and I expect more from you."

He was more confused than ever. He propped up on his elbow, and she joined him. "What is your favourite pastime?" he asked. "There, that's not a yes or no question."

"I like to look down my nose at people beneath me, I like to spend money, and make everyone feel inferior, and when I was younger, one of my favourite things to do was to torture and maim Muggles and Mudbloods."

He frowned and said, "Is the name of the game, 'I'm Lucius Malfoy'?"

"YES!" she said excited.

"You had those pastimes wrong. He never liked to spend money, he just did," he said.

She thought he would have gotten angry about the 'torturing Muggle and Mudbloods' part, but she let it go. "My turn," she started. "Do you need a moment to think of something?"

"No, I'm ready." He moved back to his back, placed his hands behind his head, and said, "Go, Granger."

"Are you a person?"

"Damn, why do you have to ask that one right away?" he asked.

"Is that your answer?" she asked back.

"No, I mean, no that's not my answer, and no, I'm not a person," he said.

"Are you something in this room?" she asked.

He actually raised his head and looked around before answering, "Yes, but I'm in many places, not just here." He was trying to throw her off the track.

She concentrated for a moment before she asked, "Are you something that I might own, or have?" It dawned on her that it might not be an object. It might be something more abstract, like a beating heart, or knowing her husband it might be a body part, like breasts.

"You have many of them," he answered with a smile. "Hey, we never determined how many questions we should ask."

"Doesn't matter," she shrugged. "Are you something that my husband has, too?"

"He has them," he answered.

"Are you my husband?" she asked.

"Yes, Granger," he said with a laugh, before he clarified by saying, "I mean, yes I, Draco Malfoy, have many of them, but the thing I'm answering as isn't your husband."

"Well, you might be trying to trick me." She moved to her back and looked up at the ceiling, her bottom lip stuck in her teeth, as she concentrated on what to ask next. "Are you something on my body?" she asked.

He tried to lift up her nightgown. She laughed and hit his hand again. He said, "Not at the moment."

She smiled and said, "You're good at this, because I'm a bit stumped." She thought for another moment and asked, "Are you something that can be held in my hands?"

"Yes," he answers precisely.

"Are you something that I hold everyday?"

"Yes," he said.

"But my husband has them, too, so does he hold them everyday?" she asked.

"No," he answered.

She was really stumped. Finally, she said, "I think I give up. Plus, I'm getting tired. What's the name of the game?"

"I'm not telling," he said. "Guess tomorrow, I'm tired. We need to get some sleep."

He turned to his side, to face away from her. She slapped his arm for the third time and said, "That's mean, and not fair, and not a very good display of showmanship, Malfoy. Tell me the name of the game."

He looked over his shoulder and said, "No."

"Tell me," she begged.

"I'm asleep," he answered back.

Hermione leaned over his shoulder, kissed his cheek and said, "I know what our next commandment should be."

"What?" he asked with disdain. "Your husband should always answer your questions before bed? You husband should always play fair, and by your rules? What?" He moved back to face her.

She leaned forward, kissed his lips, and said, "No, although those should be numbers seven, eight and nine. No, I think it should be that everyday we should appreciate each other, and try to make each other smile or laugh at least once a day. We'll think it through better tomorrow, and then add it to the list. Is that agreeable to you?"

"It's pretty good," he said. He pulled her close, placed his arms around her and said, "Shall we stay here, or go back to the bedroom."

"Here," she answered, and then closed her eyes.

He started to close his when she said, "Tell me, please."

He laughed and said, "Tomorrow, Hermione." He continued to hold her tight. He slipped back to his back and she settled against his side, her head on his chest, and her hand beside it. This was the way they liked to sleep, her head on his chest, her leg slightly over his, his arms around her.

The sound of the steady rain was still falling outside their window. Hermione wondered if it was going to rain all weekend. She found it all terribly comforting. She thought Draco might already be asleep, but still, she moved slightly to kiss his lips. She settled back in, and before she closed her eyes again, said, "I love you."

"I love you, too. We need to say that to each other every day," he said. "That's the next commandment." She said nothing in return, because she was tethering between wakefulness and sleep, and the sounds of the rain, and the popping of the fire was the last conscious thing she heard.

He smiled, kissed the top of her head, and said, "The name of the game is…"

_(What is the name of the game?)_


	8. Chapter 8

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 8:**

Though it was clearly morning, the sky was still dark. The sunrise had not yet made an appearance, and even if it had tried, the fact that it was still raining outside made everything seem grey and dreary. Draco was awake, but remained in bed, waiting for the sunrise finally to kiss the dawn, and while he waited, on the small twin bed in his father-in-law's cabin, he decided to turn to his wife, and watch her sleep.

They truly were polar-opposites, or in other words (Hermione's words), an unlikely pair.

For example, she usually tossed and turned all night long. She would often kick off all the covers, or steal them all. Sometimes she would end up with her head at the foot of the bed, or on Draco's side. Draco rarely moved at night. He often woke up in the exact same position as he was in when he went to sleep.

He slept like the dead, and she slept lightly. The slightest noise often woke her up, and then she would wake Draco up to say, "Did you hear that noise?"

Of course, he hadn't heard any noise. He was dead asleep.

She went to bed early and rose early. Whenever he could, he went to bed late, even on work nights, and woke up as late as he could. She said that she did her best thinking in the morning. She woke up happy, bright-eyed, and bushy-haired. He woke up grumpy, foggy, and slightly peeved. She would always ask him if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Then she would laugh, even though it was never funny.

She liked to get everything done in the morning, very early. She liked to accomplish all of her work by noon, so that she could relax the rest of the day. She always told him that he slept the best part of the day away. He couldn't help it if he liked to sleep until twelve on his days off work, and that by that same time, she had already cleaned the house, written a novella, painted a portrait, and written a symphony. (Only one of those things was true, but still.)

She made him slightly sick, and slightly jealous, but that was part of her charm. He reached over and touched her cheek. She was so pretty. She had the cutest little freckles, only a handful, across her cheeks and nose. How quaint. He sometimes played, 'connect the dots' with his fingers tracing one freckle to another. Once he even did it with a Muggle pen. When she woke up, she was fit to be tied; especially when she found out that he did it with something called a 'permanent marker'.

She liked to arrive early for everything. He was constantly late. Little Cygnus, much to his daddy's vexation, took after his mother in many ways. His hair was already curly, slightly lighter than hers, and he arrived in this world early, thus the reason Draco missed his birth. He woke early. He went to bed early. Sometimes Hermione would place the baby in bed with Draco in the morning, when she went to bathe, and she would always say, "Don't roll over and suffocate our baby." That always woke Draco right up. He knew that she secretly did it to wake him up. His wife was smart , because she knew that was always a sure-fire way to wake him.

Yes, little Cyggy, or Cam as she called him, had a sunny disposition, and was an all-round pleasant little chap for a five month old. Sometimes Draco wondered if the baby was really his.

No, he knew he was. He loved her even more because she gave him his son. He was the best thing Draco had ever done, his biggest accomplishment. He really wouldn't have minded having another child or two with her. A little girl would have been nice, but he really would rather have his wife than risk it. It was something he would never tell her, commandments about keeping secrets and telling lies be damned.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He knew it was time to get out of bed. He was craving coffee. He had coffee and usually only coffee, every morning for breakfast. Hermione always had stupid squirrel food…something called granola. Sometimes she had cereal, toast and tea. Sometimes she had oatmeal. Yuck. On Sundays, Draco liked to have a big breakfast. Her cooking skills had slightly improved since they married, so she always made his Sunday breakfast for him. He thought it was sweet, especially since she was less than domesticated. He wouldn't have her any other way.

He kissed her once more, and got quietly out of bed. Maybe he would wake up early for a change. He went to the bathroom to shower.

Hermione opened her eyes to watch him.

She stretched her arms over her head and tried to make out the time on the clock, but it was still too dark inside the little cabin. She heard the remnants of the rain on the slate roof. She hugged his pillow to her and took a deep sniff. It smelled marvelous. It smelled like him. She loved him so much.

Sometimes she would marvel at the fact that the boy who hated her the most while growing up, (frankly, their hate was mutual) would someday be the most important man in her life. She loved him more than she thought possible.

Though they were still an unlikely pair, he was a good husband. He was. She felt guilty for thinking otherwise the last few months. He took the news about not having another child exceedingly well. She knew that he wanted more children, but just the fact that he told her, for her sake, that it was okay, made her love him even more.

She sat up and walked toward the bathroom, stopping at the table. She spied their list. She picked up the pen, added a number six, and then walked into the bathroom. She opened the door just a crack at first. He was already out of the shower. He had a towel around his waist, and he was shaving. He had the nicest body. His bum was her favourite body part. She could never tell him that because it would make her seem shallow, and he already was shallow, and she would never hear the end of it. She loved his shoulders and hands, too.

She just loved him.

He was exasperating, irritating, annoying, amusing, intelligent, volatile, and everything she had ever wanted and expected in a husband.

She often tried to think of what her life would have been like if he hadn't waited for her at the church the day of Ron and Pansy's wedding. Her life would be so sad and empty right now. She frowned, because she hated to think her own happiness was so intertwined with his, and that her happiness was dependent on his being in her life. She never thought she would be 'one of those women', but perhaps that was what made a marriage a good marriage…the sharing, and expressing, and dependency, of happiness from one party to another. That should be number seven of their commandments.

He turned to her, and one eyebrow cocked upwards. Then he smiled. She smiled back, and leaned against the door jam.

He rinsed his face, patted it dry with another towel, and reached out his hand for her. She shrugged, and continued to smile as she took his hand in hers. He turned to face her. She reached up with one finger and traced his mouth. She stood up on tiptoes and kissed his lips sweetly, and soundly. He covered her mouth fully with his, and slipped his tongue inside, as his arms went around her waist, his hands clasped, and resting low on her bum.

Her hands went to his shoulders, and then slid around to his back. She moved her head to the side and deepened their kiss. His hand went to one of her breasts, and pinched her nipple through her gown. She arched instinctively toward him. His thumb rubbed back and forth, and all doubts that existed about how different they were vanished from them both as they continued to kiss and explore each other, in the most intimate and familiar way.

He lifted her gown over her head, threw it on the ground, and picked her up slightly, to place her on the small sink. He opened his towel, let it drop to the floor, planted his feet slightly apart so that he was a bit lower, and he entered her. She threw her head back, and he kissed her neck.

They made love, standing up, in the small bathroom, which was no longer or wider than Draco, and when they were done, he joined her back in the shower.

He washed her, and she washed him, yet again. The shower was barely large enough for one, let alone two. He turned them so that she was under the showerhead, and as his hands went down her curly tresses, she finally spoke.

"What was the thing I couldn't guess last night? You know, the name of the game?"

"I really don't remember," he lied, just to annoy her.

"You have to remember," she said, shampoo running down her face.

He reached for her chin, pointed it toward his face, kissed her mouth again, and said, "I don't recall at all."

She opened her eyes, and said, "You must."

"But I don't." Then he realized he was breaking one of the commandments, or maybe two or three. He was lying and trying to annoy her, so he said, "Okay, let me give you another couple of guesses."

"I knew you remembered," she said. He turned off the water and laughed. He took the towel he had on early, picked it up from the floor, began to dry with it, even as he handed her a clean towel. She bent at the waist, dried her hair, and then whipped her hair up as she wrapped the same towel around her body. She asked, "Is it something tangible?"

"You asked me last night it you could hold it, and if you had any, and I said yes on both accounts, so that would make it tangible," he argued.

"One could say the same thing about love, because I can hold it in my heart, and I have love, but it's not tangible," she argued back.

"I could argue that point, but let me just say, yes, it's tangible," he revealed, combing his wet hair. He stood behind her and began to comb hers.

She looked at him in the mirror and asked, "Is it something I hold dear? Something that's important to me."

"It's not a one thing, and yes, you do," he said. She was still baffled, so finally he said, "I don't want to be cruel, so I'll tell you. 'Books', Hermione. The name of my game was 'Books'. You didn't guess 'Books'?"

He walked to the bedroom and began to dress.

"You gave stupid clues," she harped, pulling out clean clothes from her suitcase.

"No, you just asked stupid questions," he accused back.

She pulled on a tight, long-sleeved t-shirt, and looked outside and said, "I thought after breakfast, we could take a hike. There are many trails in these woods, but I don't think the rain is going to cooperate."

"We won't really have time for a walk before we head back anyway," he said. He sat on the bed and put on his shoes and socks.

"I'm sure we will," she said, confused. "Even if it rains all morning, we can probably walk this afternoon, though the woods will be muddy and the paths rained soaked."

She started to put on her shoes, when he said, "Why would we want to come back here this afternoon to sludge around in the mud? Mud is not a Malfoy's friend, Hermione, so there will be no frolicking in the woods today." He patted her cheek and walked out to the kitchenette.

He started a pot of coffee when she walked in the little room behind him and asked, "What do you mean, come back here just for a hike? We aren't going home until Sunday."

He placed two slices of bread in the toaster, one for him and one for her, but he turned quickly and said, "It's Saturday!"

"Yes, and Sunday is the day after," she said full of condensation.

"I'm not spending my Saturday here in this little cottage, with no telly, no books," he said that one sarcastically, "and nothing to do!" he shouted.

"Why?" she asked. "You never do anything on Saturdays anyway, so you can do nothing here just as easily as at home!"

He ignored that and said, "I have to go home, because even if you don't, I have a son to take care of, Granger! Someone has to take care of him. He's a tiny chap, and can't even bathe or feed himself."

He poured his coffee, grabbed one slice of dry toast, stuffed it in his mouth, took a large bite, and walked to the table in the other room.

She grabbed the other slice, buttered it before she took it in the other room, poured some milk, and then joined him at the table. She was really trying to kill some time, because she wanted to say something really scathing to him regarding the crack about, 'even if you don't, I have a son to take care of', but she would let it pass for now.

Instead she walked to the main room, sat opposite him, and said, "I hardly think my mother and father would make Cam bathe and feed himself at this stage of the game. They know how to take care of a baby. They took good care of me."

"And look how you turned out!" he snapped.

She threw her toast at him. "I'll let the remark about you having a son to take care of, even if I think I don't, pass, but no one says anything bad about my parents, Malfoy! Cam is in capable, loving hands. It's not as if your parents have their pureblood claws on him this weekend! I mean, everyone knows what a marvelous job they did on you!" she huffed sarcastically.

"HEY!" He threw his toast at her. At least his was dry, so it didn't leave a mess. He had a spot of butter on his shirt, from where her piece hit him directly on the shoulder.

She stood up and said, "I came here for the weekend, Draco. No one asked you to follow. You can go home if you'd like, but I came here for a reason."

"Yes, to emotionally blackmail me," he said comptemptuously. He stood as well. "Listen, I followed you, as we both know you wanted me to do. We talked about our problems, you told me your dirty, little secret, so it's over and done. We don't have to be here any longer!"

"How did this start?" she asked, in true wonderment. She held out her arms and said, "There I was, lying in bed, thinking about how much I love you, and how we really did have a great marriage, then we made love, and now we are back to fighting, and about stupid, meaningless things! Its pure bollocks, Malfoy!"

He was about to go for the low blow, and he didn't care how many commandments he broke to do it. He said, "You might consider taking care of our son, and shirking your responsibility as meaningless, but I don't!"

She couldn't ignore that one! She went over to him and pushed him hard. She ran to the bedroom, grabbed her coat, and walked out to meet the grey, wet morning. She slammed the door was hard as she could, and ran off the porch, toward the muddy path in the woods. She needed time alone after all, because her husband was the world's biggest prat!

He took a deep breath to calm down, and then he spied their list of commandments on the table. She had added one this morning apparently, because there was suddenly a number six on the list. He read it and then cursed. Now he would have to go after her.

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

6.) Everyday you should strive to make your spouse laugh or smile. Enjoy each other. Find comfort in each other. Play silly games, make up songs, find joy in the little things, and most important of all, remember to always end and start the day with a simple, "I love you", because if you do, you should say it. In other words, be nice and never say mean or hateful things to the person whom you love the most, and who loves you just as much.


	9. Chapter 9

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 9:**

The only time Draco Malfoy liked getting wet was when he was in the shower. He hated rain and everything about it, especially the 'getting wet' part. Yet here he was, running about outside, in the pouring rain, along a muddy path, sloshing mud, gunk, and who knows what else, onto his brand new trainers and his favourite jeans, and all because his wife ran away again.

She had a nasty habit of doing that.

Furthermore, she always knew he would follow. Either he was the world's biggest sap, or he really loved her. Probably the latter. There was also the small fact that he was in the wrong this time. He had picked a fight with her for no reason, he had said some cruel things, and he needed to apologize.

He wasn't sure which way she went. He used the 'four point' spell to locate her with his wand. When he determined that she went north, he proceeded in that direction. Soon, he saw her footprints in the mud. He began to trot, and then to jog. Finally, he saw her. She had the hood of her jacket pulled up. He wished he had thought of bringing a jacket with a hood, or at the very least, an umbrella, but then again, he didn't know he was coming to the bloody woods this weekend, or that it was going to rain all weekend. Even though they were in the dense forest, with the covering of trees acting as a sort of awning or canopy, the rain was still hitting him everywhere.

He was positively obsessed with the rain! She looked back once, almost slipped, and then turned back around. She slowed down considerably. She must want him to catch up. He slowed down as well, to catch his breath.

She held her hand out behind her as she walked. When he was close enough to grab it, he grabbed the hood of her jacket instead, and yanked it down. "You should have wet hair if I have to have wet hair," he said as she looked back at him with questioning eyes. Then he took her hand.

They continued down the path and he said, "I read number six."

"Did you like it?" she asked.

"Would I have run out here in the rain to catch you if I didn't think it had its merits?" he asked.

"I thought it was good, if I do say so myself," she stated.

"A bit long winded. I could have written it more concise and to the point," he bragged.

She smiled and said, "Bully for you."

"I would have said, "Have fun, laugh, rinse, repeat"," then he laughed.

"That would have worked," she said with a smile.

He pulled her to a stop. She placed her back against a large tree. He placed his hand above her head, and said, "I was out of line picking a fight for no reason, and that crack about you not caring about Cygnus was more than out of line, it was on the cruel side."

"Yes, it was," she agreed.

"And your parents did a bang up job raising you," he said truthfully. "The truth is that they did a better job with you than my parents did with me."

"Let's not make comparison, and I think you turned out pretty good, all things considering," she said with a slight grin.

"What things considering?" he asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Death Eater father, indulgent mother, bigotry ingrained since infanthood, shall I continue?" she started.

"No, I see," he said sincerely. "I am sorry and I love you."

"I accept your apology, and I love you," she said. "Sometimes it seems like you like to pick fights with me. Everything was fine back at the cabin and then suddenly, you just went off the handle, and picked a fight. Why do you do that?"

He wanted to be truthful, so he confessed, "Sometimes I do purposely pick a fight with you, and as to why, well, it's just like when we were younger and in school. You were the best adversary I ever had. I could always rely on that biting wit, and those clever barbs. I find our verbal sparing matches invigorating and exciting. It's stimulating sometimes, however, I don't like that I caused you undue distress, not like when we were kids, when causing you undue distress was my favourite, all time, pastime."

"Hmm," she hummed. She didn't have a remark for that. She also hadn't apologized in return, so he wondered if she was still slightly angry, but then again, she really hadn't done anything for which she should apologize.

She moved from the tree trunk, without another word, and continued to walk. She raised the hood of her jacket again. He watched her for a moment, and then followed again. "Where are we going?" he finally asked.

She didn't answer.

"Hey, Granger, stop a moment," he pleaded.

She stopped again, and even took a few steps toward him. He said, "Look at my new trainers."

"Those aren't new," she begged to differ.

"Practically. I've only had these about three months," he said.

"You have about a hundred pairs of shoes, Draco Malfoy. So what if one pair gets muddy. We'll use magic on them later, to clean them," she reasoned. "You get muddier than this when you play in the monthly, Weasley Quidditch game."

"Which, by the by, I'll be missing this Sunday, if we stay here all weekend," he reminded her.

"You won't have to miss it. You can leave early Sunday morning. I'm not sure when I'll leave, but shortly after." She turned back around and held her hand out behind her as before.

Just to be ornery, he pulled her hood down again, before taking her hand. "Why do you want to stay all weekend, truly?"

"Draco," she began, coming to another stop. "You don't have to stay here this weekend. You can go home now, really, and I won't be upset. Despite what you thought were my intentions this weekend, I really wasn't leaving you, and I really didn't run away to get your attention, and I would have eventually called you last night to tell you where I was. I just came up here to think and to spend some time alone. I hadn't counted on you being here this weekend anyway, not that I'm not happy for it, and it's helped us iron out some problems, but really, leave if you want. I won't even be upset."

He could tell that she meant it, but he wouldn't leave her, and she must know that. He wondered if the 'muddy' shoe was on the other foot, if he would do the same. She was much more independent than he was. He counted on her, and needed her more than she needed him. He rather thought it made their marriage one sided.

He stroked her wet cheek, and pulled her hood back in place, right before he leaned over to kiss her mouth. "Buck up, Granger dear. I'll never leave you." He took her hand again and asked once more, "Where are we going?"

"It's called a walk, Draco, dear," she said contemptuously.

"A walk in the rain and mud must be some sort of Mudblood thing," he said.

She gave him an annoyed look. "Sorry, I meant, it must be a Hermione thing," he said quickly, but with a hint of a grin. "If I had told you that I needed a weekend alone, away from you and the baby, what would you have done?"

"I would have told you goodbye, and have at it, and good luck," she said truthfully. He pulled her to stop again. "Draco!" she harped. "We're never going to get anywhere if you keep stopping us!"

"Oh shut up," he said, pulling her hood down again. "I think I'm having an epiphany or something. Let me have it, won't you?"

She looked amused and said, "Tell me, oh great one, what is your epiphany?"

"You don't need me as much as I need you," he said.

"That's not an epiphany," she said.

"Listen little Miss, 'I'm smarter than my husband'," he said with annoyance, "the meaning of an epiphany is a sudden realization, and I just realized that I need you more than you need me. I wouldn't even dream of going away for the weekend without you, and I don't think I would even want to do so."

She thought for a moment and said, "Funny, because earlier this morning, I had my own little epiphany, when I was thinking that my happiness is reliant on your happiness, and yet you somehow think that I don't need you as much as you need me. How odd."

"Your happiness is based on mine?" he asked solemnly.

"In a way," she said, leaning against yet another tree. "You see, I just meant that I never thought I would be the sort of wife, or woman, who would equate her own happiness as being as important, or even reliant, on that of her significant other, but it is. I don't know if my epiphany makes me happy or sad."

"It makes me sad," he said plainly.

"Why is that?"

"Because if your happiness is a direct result, or reliant, or whatever, on my happiness, then why in the bloody, blue blazes are you so sad and morose all the time, these days? I haven't been sad or depressed, and you have been, so I don't see the connection of my happiness equaling your happiness." He placed her hood back in place.

"You think I've been sad and depressed lately?" she asked with concern.

"I don't just think it. Mum and Dad thinks it, too. I've even talked to my mother about it, and she also thinks so. So does Adrian. Now, my father thinks your recent depression is because I haven't bought you enough furs and jewelry, but I know you're not that shallow."

She stared at him with her mouth agape.

He continued. "Now when I talked to Potter about it, he suggested that you might be going through postpartum depression, from having Cyggy, but what would he know. He's not a woman, although one wouldn't know that from the way he acts, and they haven't had a child yet. Anyway, now that I know you've been sad about the whole not having another child thing, I think it might just be that. However, Mrs. Weasley said that perhaps…"

She stomped her foot and yelled, "STOP!" before he could say another word. "Instead of speaking with me, you've been discussing my supposed 'sad and depressed' state of mind with everyone and their brother?" She screamed in frustration.

He looked slightly alarmed and reassured, "Not everyone, and not with anyone's brother, oh, except for Weasley's brother Charlie. The only other people I've talked with were Mum, Dad, Mother, Father, Potter, Adrian, Mrs. Weasley, the woman at the market, my stupid partner at work, Little Red, and Oliver Wood."

"What?" she screamed. "Oliver Wood?"

"Yeah, I asked Wood if he noticed you were depressed lately, the last time we all played Quidditch at the Burrow. He said that he hadn't seen you for a while, so he didn't know for sure why you would be sad, but perhaps it was because you were married to me, and I shoved him, and got up on my broom and flew away from the bastard."

"Draco Malfoy!" she chastised. "How dare you discuss our personal problems, or my so called unhappiness, with anyone but me!" She started to walk away from him, but turned back. "And for your information, I'm a healer, so I thought the reason for my unhappiness as of late might have something to do with postpartum depression, and hormones, but when I saw Dr. Carlisle, he had me see a psychologist, and they both ruled that out. I'm not suffering postpartum depression. I haven't been sad or depressed lately. What I've been is bored and lonely!"

She took her wand out of her pocket and apparated back to the cabin.

He left his wand in his pocket and screamed, "You _**have too**_ been sad and depressed! You _**have not **_been bored and lonely! How could you be lonely when you're married to me?" Although she was already long gone, he continued to scream. He turned back the way he came, sloshing back in the mud and gunk, to finish his walk in the rain, _all alone_.


	10. Chapter 10

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 10:**

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was as angry as this. Actually, yes she could, it was third year, Hogwarts, and Draco Malfoy was gloating to his friends that 'thanks to him', Hagrid's pet Hippogriff was about to be executed. Back then she was so angry that she slapped him right across the face.

That was what she should have done this time.

How could he tell everyone that she was sad and depressed! How embarrassing! He even told Oliver 'Effing' Woods, for Merlin's sake! He told her parents…worse, he told HIS PARENTS, who already hated her. They were probably planning on how to have her committed, or planning on how they could get custody of her son, since she was so UNSTABLE!

He told Harry! Then Harry 'the hero' Potter told Draco that perhaps Hermione had the 'baby blues'! What would he know about the baby blues? He had never had a baby, nor was he a woman! He wasn't even a father yet. How dare Harry and Draco discuss her mental health without her? Harry wasn't qualified to make a diagnosis. He was a freaking Auror, not a Healer.

She wondered if everyone thought she was weak now. Did they think less of her? Did they question her sanity? Did they feel sorry for her? Wasn't everyone allowed to have a time in their life when they feel down? Weren't people allowed to feel like crap occasionally? Wasn't she human?

She continued to pace back and forth in the cabin, where she apparated to after she left Draco in the woods, and she had one thought, she hoped Draco got lost, and wetter.

She sat down at the table and placed her head on her arms. If Draco was so concerned for her, why had he not spoken to her about it? He spoke to everyone else. Did he actually think it would make her happier if he stayed away from her, if he really thought she was so bloody sad? Did he really think he had to discuss her with everyone else but her?

Hermione lifted her head and gasped! Of course, that was what he thought! That was why he had been so distant. He was trying to give her space, because he thought that was what she wanted. He spoke with everyone but her because he thought he COULDN'T talk with her, because he knew she would act just as she did.

Hermione stood up and walked to the front door, and threw it open. She called his name. There was no answer. That poor man! His statement about her not needing him was evidence of the fact that he thought he was not relevant to her. He thought he was helping her by giving her space, staying away, not even aware that, that was the last thing she needed. The fact that he spoke about her to everyone, even people he didn't really like, showed that he cared about her and what he perceived as her problems. He went out of his way to seek other's advice, and he did it for her!

What a kind, sweet, endearing, but extremely stupid man. She dried herself with her wand, went to the kitchenette to make some coffee for him, and then once the coffee was made she sat on the porch to wait for him, a cup of hot coffee for him in one hand, a cup of tea for her in the other.

The rain was merely a light sprinkle now. The sky was still unusually grey for the time of day, and there was more humidity in the air now, so Draco took off his jacket and tied it around his waist. He wandered aimlessly through the woods, uncertain how to get back to the cabin by walking. He could apparate, but he wasn't sure that he should. His wife was very, very angry, and he frankly didn't want to face her right now, or maybe ever.

Why was she allowed to bring up all of her concerns and problems this weekend, but the one time he did, she jumped down his throat. He realized that he went about it wrong. He was less than forthcoming in the way he approached it. He rather blurted it out, almost as an afterthought, even though it was something he had wanted to discuss with her for a very long time, but he knew she would react this way.

Just as she knew he would be upset when she finally told him how she could have died if she had another baby, he knew she would be upset if and when he talked to her about her sadness.

Why couldn't she see that he loved her more than life itself, and he merely wanted her to be happy and healthy? Sure, he didn't go about things in the right way, but he was Draco Malfoy, he never went about things in the right way, and she should accept him for his shortcomings, just as he should accept her for hers.

He sighed. He no sooner had that thought when he realized that he wasn't accepting of her shortcomings. He knew she was proud, and would not take kindly to the fact that he had been discussing their personal affairs with half of the Wizarding World, and even with some Muggles. He knew she would be embarrassed. He was afraid of confronting her for those very reasons, and that was his problem, not hers. She was just the same old Hermione Granger that she always was.

She was proud, reserved, hotheaded, stubborn, and evasive, everything that she had been all their lives, and he frankly loved all those things about her. He felt badly that he hadn't talked things over with her. He was a coward. Always was, and always would be. He was underhanded, and he often skewed things to his benefit…again, always had and always would. He manipulated her today. He waited for this moment to spring this on her, when he should have sat her on the couch, taken her by the hand, and said, "Sweetheart, I love you and I'm concerned that you are unhappy, can you tell me why."

He apparated back to the cabin.

He walked around the main room, and noticed that the front door was partly open. He dried off with his wand, threw his jacket over the chair, and walked outside. The sound of the screen door squeaking caused her to look up from her place on the stone steps off the front porch.

He approached her. "Is that coffee for me?" he asked.

"It might be cold now," she said. She pointed her wand at the cup and then handed it up to him. He took it, sat down next to her on the steps, and then before he took a drink he placed it behind him on the porch.

He took her face in his hands, and kissed her lips, softly and warmly and with intent. Then he reached behind him for the coffee, took a sip, and said, "My goodness, Granger, when will you ever learn to make a decent cup of coffee?"

"You can have some of my tea," she said, holding up another cup.

He merely shook his head and placed his cup back on the porch. He reached for hers and placed it beside it. She leaned her head on his shoulder and said, "I over reacted."

"And I approached things wrong," he said in return. "I should never have discussed things with everyone before I talked to you."

"I should have talked to you, too." She leaned over, so that her upper body was across his lap. He rubbed his left hand on her back. She finally said, "I think I _have_ been a bit sad and depressed."

"I know," he said. He leaned down and kissed the middle of her back, moved her hair, and kissed her neck. "I know you, Granger. You're my other half, some might say, my better half. I know you as well as I know myself."

She sat back up and held his hand. "I've also been a bit bored and lonely, though, to be truthful."

"I know that, too," he said. "And I've been avoiding talking to you, because I was afraid of how you would react. Truly, I only talked to the others because I wanted assurances that you would be okay. I've been worried. I've been afraid. I've been afraid that you didn't want to be married to me any longer."

"I would never leave you," she said plainly.

"I hope that's true," he said.

"I want to go back to work," she suddenly said. He nodded. "I don't want a stranger to take care of the baby, but I really want to go back to work, so I don't know the solution. I feel torn, but I need more stimuli. Dr. Carlisle has asked me to head a research group that will incorporate Muggle Medicine with Magical Healing, to see how it might benefit the Wizarding world. He said he would like for me to go to a Muggle University, and get a degree in Muggle Medicine, but that would take years to complete."

"But do you want to do this?" he asked.

She nodded, somewhat hesitantly, and said, "At first I didn't, because I truly did want another child, but when I found out that I shouldn't have any more, I started to seriously think about his suggestion. It would take a lot of schooling. He said that I could go right to Medical School, because of my Healer training, and he already has approval at a very prestigious Muggle Research Hospital, and they would co-sponsor my education, along with St. Mungo's."

He laughed and said, "You really want to go back to school…wait, that's a stupid question, of course you do."

"I do," she agreed. "But what about Cam?"

"Granger," he started, "have I told you lately how much I hate my job?"

"You do?" she asked, surprised.

He nodded this time and said, "I only became an Auror in the beginning because Potter and Weasley did, and I wanted to prove to them that I could do anything they could, and if you ever reveal that fact to anyone, I will have to seriously consider killing you, or perhaps cutting your tongue out."

She thought that was extreme. "Ouch," she remarked with a smile. "Why haven't you told me this before?"

"Because, you work, so I thought I should work. I didn't want to appear as a lazy git, but I don't have to work, we don't need the money, and frankly I don't really enjoy it," he admitted.

She laughed again and said, "You just don't like getting up early in the morning."

"That's part of it, and I won't pretend otherwise," he said seriously. He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissed it lightly and said, "I would have quit years ago, but I had my sights on you, early on, when you were still with Weasley, and I stayed in the Auror department so I could keep tabs on you."

She grinned and said, "You did not."

"But of course I did," he said glibly.

"Were you my stalker?" she asked.

"In an unofficial capacity only," he joked. "I really just meant that by working with the Wonder Wit and his sidekick, I could continue to hear about what you were up to, and I would get to see you occasionally."

"You liked me before Ron's wedding?" she asked, seriously.

"Yes, I did," he answered bluntly. She was shocked. He had never told her this before. "When Weasley started seeing Pansy on the side, I was convinced Potter would tell you right away, and I thought I might find an opening, so that I could rescue you in a way. I was furious that Potter never told you. He's such a self-righteous prat."

Hermione laughed.

"Then, I was this close to telling you myself, I had even composed an anonymous letter, spelling out all of the sordid details, when finally, Weasley told you. He came back after he told you, crying on Harry's shoulder, about how badly you took it. It took all of my strength not to throttle the man. Frankly, I was a wee bit proud of Potter. He told the man off royally. It was high time. I wanted to go comfort you, but I knew that you wouldn't be receptive to that."

"I wish in a way that you had. I even wish you had told me, so that I would have known before they were engaged, for goodness sakes," she responded.

"So do I," he admitted. He placed his arm around her shoulder, and kissed her cheek. "But if I had told you, you might have found some way to blame me, in some weird way. You would have become extremely angry, so I had to bide my time, and wait for you to find out, and then I had to find a way to heal you, and pursue you. I figured that the wedding would be a great time to do that. I couldn't believe my luck when Potter said you were coming."

He continued, "I knew the fact that you were going to the wedding meant one of two things. Either you were over him, or more likely, you were sad and depressed and wanted to wallow in self-pity."

"Boy, when you are right, you're right. You know me too well," she gleamed.

"Yes, I figured you would go to wallow. It was righteously ironic and incredibly funny when you threw that whole handful of rice right at his head after the ceremony! Some even went in his mouth!"

They both laughed.

"You helped me so much that day," she said. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you away ever since. You're my husband, and the best friend I've every had, and I need to appreciate you more, and the fact that you have been there for me, both now and then, means so much to me. I love you, Draco Malfoy."

"Good, I would hate to think that my love was unrequited," he said in return. He stood up and pulled her to stand as well. He walked up the steps, but before he walked in the cabin, he held her tightly in his embrace. "So, one problem solved, right? You want to go back to school, and work, and I don't, so I'll take care of Cyggy, okay?"

"You can be a kept man," she said smiling.

"I think I'm well groomed for the position," he said seriously.

"With this decision made, we also have another commandment," she said.

"Really, when did that happen?" he asked, one brow in the air.

She pulled him into the cabin and walked over to the table, where their list was resting on top. She wrote something quickly and handed it to him. He smiled and said, "Seven down, three to go."

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

6.) Everyday you should strive to make your spouse laugh or smile. Enjoy each other. Find comfort in each other. Play silly games, make up songs, find joy in the little things, and most important of all, remember to always end and start the day with a simple, "I love you", because if you do, you should say it. In other words, be nice and never say mean or hateful things to the person whom you love the most, and who loves you just as much.

7.) If you can't talk to the person you're married to, then you shouldn't talk to anyone. Even if the problem is with them, you need to speak with them first. Be truthful with your emotions, wants, and desires. Don't be afraid to admit what you want and need. Don't be afraid of rejection. Ultimate trust and honestly must be preserved at all times, if a marriage is to be successful. If you can't share your hopes, dreams, fears, and failures, with the person who loves you the most, and without fear of retribution, then you shouldn't share them with anyone else.


	11. Chapter 11

All characters belong to JKR

* * *

**_A/N:_**

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* * *

**Chapter 11:**

"The rain is never going to stop, is it?" Hermione said wistfully. She looked out the windowpane, tracing her finger along the pattern where the triangle-glass met the lead-pane dividers. She glanced over her shoulder, and saw that Draco had picked up the book she had abandoned moments ago. "Draco, that's my book."

"Uh huh," he mumbled.

"I mean, I brought it with me this weekend, to have something to read," she clarified.

"Yeah, okay," he said, still reading.

"I've been reading it for the last two hours," she continued, "ever since we came back to the cabin."

"Bully for you," he said while turning a page.

"Do you want to work on our commandments?" she asked.

"No, I'm reading."

"Humph!" she retorted. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. They had let the fire burn out, since the air inside the cabin was humid due to the constant rain. She sat on the arm of his chair and said, "There are books here you can read."

"I'm reading this one," he said, still not looking up. "At least I'm trying to read. You keep interrupting me."

"I know the feeling," she said to herself. She stood up and started walking around the room. "Do you want me to fix us lunch? It's after twelve."

"I'm not that hungry," he said. He folded the book and said, "And not to be rude, darling, but I'm reading, so do you mind finding something else to do, and stop bothering me."

She glared at him and turned on her heels to leave the room, mumbling something about, "already breaking commandments two through four!"

He laughed and folded the book, before placing it on the fireplace hearth. He stood up to follow her. She was opening a can of stew when he entered the kitchen. He jumped up on the counter and said, "You really don't mind if I quit my job and stay home with the baby, do you?"

She stirred the stew and shook her head even as she said, "No, I think that's great. Although taking care of an infant is harder than it looks, and you haven't really ever had him alone more than an hour or two." She turned down the burner and stood between his legs. He placed his arms around her. "You know what you should do?"

"Hire a nanny?" he asked.

She laughed and said, "No, you should pursue your writing. You really should."

"I can just hear my father now. He thinks reading is for sissy-boys, can you imagine what he will think when he finds out that I'm quitting my job, I'm going to stay home and take care of the baby, and oh, by the way, Daddy dearest, I'm going to become a writer. He'll probably disown me."

"Tell him you're going to write romance novels, that should really twist his wand in a knot," she said laughing. She moved from his legs and stirred the stew once more. She went to the cupboard, took down two bowls, and poured some stew into both. She said, "Really, taking care of a baby takes a lot of time and patience, Draco."

"Only one of which you have, so if you can do it, I can. How hard could it be? I'll have time to write, too," he remarked.

She poured some water into a glass, took a spoon from the drawer, sat on the other side of him, and began to eat her stew, while sitting on the kitchen countertop. Draco hopped off and prepared his bowl before joining her.

"Which one do I have, time or patience?" she asked with amusement.

"I was just making small talk," he said with a shrug. "You really don't have either."

"Ha," she barked with a fake laugh.

"Ha," he repeated.

She merely glared at him and said, "You're being mean and annoying, and you're breaking a few of our commandments again."

He remarked, "I'm not breaking any of the sodding commandments, and I'm being loving and annoying."

"You're being something, alright," she said back. "Besides, I have plenty of time and patience. I'm very good with our son."

"I know you are, and I know you feel you have too much time on your hands, hence the weariness and tedium, which has caused your recent sadness, boredom and loneliness." He leveled his spoon at her and said, "Which, by the way, we've solved the problems of the sadness and boredom. Let's work on the loneliness."

"We solved the other two, did we?" she inquired wirily.

He took a big bite of stew and said, "Certainly. You're going back to school, so you won't be bored, and I'm going to be a better husband, so you won't be sad." He spit out a carrot and said, "You didn't tell me this stew had carrots."

"You didn't ask."

"I don't like carrots."

"I know."

"Then why did you fix this?"

"I fixed it for me, not you."

"That's rude."

"You said you weren't hungry."

"Since when do you believe anything I say?" he asked.

"Point well taken," she agreed. "Pick around them. Now, the loneliness part is nothing. I just said that, I didn't really mean it." She finished her stew and jumped off the counter. She placed the bowl in the sink, along with her glass.

"Granger trying to lie to the king of liars is so extremely sad. It's like the lamb trying to pretend she's a lion." He threw his bowl, with the rest of the carrots, into the sink and jumped down from the countertop.

"I'm the lamb, I suppose?" she asked, walking into the bathroom. She started to brush her teeth.

"In this case, yes, but the point is, you said you were lonely, and now you're trying to convince me that you're not. This weekend is supposed to be about discovering our problems, and ironing things out. If you lie, which by the way not only breaks one of our commandments, but I think that chap Moses wrote one that was similar, then we can never work out our problems. We will also be stuck here forever, and I for one, would like to go home at least by the morning at the latest."

She spit the toothpaste out, just as he pushed her aside to brush his teeth. She leaned against the wall of the small bathroom and said, "First, that Moses chap had a ghost writer who wrote his commandments, I'm fairly sure. Second, this weekend was supposed to be about me getting away for time alone, not about discovery, so if I was so damn lonely, why would I want to be alone this weekend?"

She pushed him as he began to brush his teeth and walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom. Even though a steady rain was still falling, she opened the bedroom window, which faced the front of the cabin. She threw herself across the bed.

He walked in a moment later and said, "If you can't be honest, then I should just leave now, right?"

"Go home if you want," she said.

"I mean, I should leave you," he said dramatically. He threw himself beside her, and propped himself on his side. She turned to face him, onto her side.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, fine, I've been somewhat lonely, which I've already stated. So what? I can't even articulate why I feel that way. It's nothing. It's probably because you've been avoiding me, because you thought that's what I wanted. But really, Draco, I'm fine."

He sighed. "What can I do if you won't let me help you?"

She moved to her back and stared up to the ceiling. "Listen, sweetie, you've healed my broken heart one time before. You cured my loneliness when you married me. It's not up to you to do it again. I have to do it this time."

So, she was lonely, but more than that, she more of less just said that she had a broken heart again. That statement made him incredibly sad. "Do you want to have sex?" he asked, without any amusement in his voice.

"Draco," she said, but didn't follow that word with any others. She thought for a second and then said, "Okay."

He laughed and said, "I was joking, but maybe later." He placed his hand on her stomach and leaned over her to kiss her lips lightly. "It's true that I was running away from you for a bit, because you acted as if my company bothered you, and I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want my being near you to bother you. I recognize that was wrong of me now, and I won't do that again."

Now that statement made her sad, but it was somewhat true. She would never admit it to him, because she wouldn't want to hurt his fragile psyche, so she tried to explain, "I just wanted us to spend more time together, but quality time, not quantity. We don't have to spend every minute together, but time is short, and I love being with you. I love you, Draco, so very much. We need to figure out a way to balance all things. Just because I said I was lonely doesn't mean that I need to spend every waking moment with you. I just need you to be available, emotionally as well as physically."

He swallowed hard and said, "I love spending time with you above all other things. Unlike you, who needs time alone everyone once in a way, I hate being alone. I don't really like my own company. I don't amuse myself." He laughed.

"I love your company, and you amuse me greatly," she said, jokingly.

He sat up suddenly and so did she. He sat up because he had a sudden thought; she followed because he concerned her. "We need to pick one night a week where we have a date, just us, and we do things outside of the house. It can be going out to dinner, or some afternoon we could go to a museum. Just you and I. We really will need a nanny."

She smiled. "I would like that, the date part, not the nanny part, and I think that Sunday should be family day. We will do things together, as a family, with just our family, or our parents, and we will continue to go the Weasley's occasionally, but perhaps not every Sunday. We need to start our own traditions."

"Our own traditions?" he asked. "That's fab. We can go on picnics, or ride bikes, or play Quidditch."

"What about Cam?" she asked.

"He can play if he can keep up," he joked.

She was almost bubbling over with excitement and she said earnestly, "That's a wonderful plan. We need a support system, with our family, but we need each other first and foremost. If I had been there for you, or open to you, you wouldn't have felt the need to discuss all of our problems with everyone else. If you had been there for me, I wouldn't have felt sad and lonely. It's a vicious cycle, which we will now break. I know I keep to myself a lot, I always have. I've always felt the need to protect my family from certain aspects of my life, and I think I still do that, but I will try to share everything with you from now on, okay?"

"Are we agreed? This is commandment number eight, right?" he asked. She nodded. He ran to get their list. He stood next to the dresser and began to write. He said, "We are such an industrious little pair. We've not even been here 24 hours, and we've come up with eight commandments. I think we will be able to go home early after all."

"Read me number eight," she requested.

He placed the pen on the dresser, on top of their list and said, "First, I really do want to have sex. Are you up for it?"

"Are you?" she asked, with a slight smile.

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

6.) Everyday you should strive to make your spouse laugh or smile. Enjoy each other. Find comfort in each other. Play silly games, make up songs, find joy in the little things, and most important of all, remember to always end and start the day with a simple, "I love you", because if you do, you should say it. In other words, be nice and never say mean or hateful things to the person whom you love the most, and who loves you just as much.

7.) If you can't talk to the person you're married to, then you shouldn't talk to anyone. Even if the problem is with them, you need to speak with them first. Be truthful with your emotions, wants, and desires. Don't be afraid to admit what you want and need. Don't be afraid of rejection. Ultimate trust and honestly must be preserved at all times, if a marriage is to be successful. If you can't share your hopes, dreams, fears, and failures, with the person who loves you the most, and without fear of retribution, then you shouldn't share them with anyone else

8.) Spend quality time together every week. Make plans, and keep them. Date your spouse, just as you did when you were courting, (yes, yes, Draco and Hermione never dated, they just got married, we know.) Pick one day a week for a date, even if the date is a simple walk, or as elaborate as a weekend away, and make sure to spend one day a week as a family, because family is forever.


	12. Chapter 12

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 12: **

Draco had just placed their list of commandments and the pen on the dresser and said, "I really do want to have sex. Are you up for it?"

"Are you?" she asked, with a slight smile.

"I'm always up for it, in more ways than one," he said with a smirk and a nod. He glanced down at his zipper and back up to her face.

Hermione smiled again, sat on the bed, and started to remove her shoes when Draco looked out the window and said, "Hey, the rain has stopped."

"You're lying," she stated.

"I have vowed never to lie again, haven't I? Haven't we already established that as one of our commandments? What would be the point? Come and look if you don't believe me," he said, as he slipped his t-shirt off his body.

She threw her shoes on the floor and looked out the window. "Oh, Draco, the sun has even come out! I can't believe it! I really thought it was going to rain all day, no all weekend! This is perfect!"

"Why?" he asked.

"We can go outside!" she said, rushing back over to pick up her shoes.

"You want to make love out in the woods?" he asked, as he slipped his jeans down his legs.

She laughed and said, "No! Put your clothes back on, you pervert. We aren't going to make love outside."

"I said I wanted sex, and you implied that you did as well!" he said, with a slight whine to his voice. He kicked off his trainers, stepped out of his jeans, and stood before her in only his shorts and socks. She wanted to laugh at him, but damn, he still looked sexy.

"Draco, sweetheart, you look sexy as all get out, but I want to go fishing," she said. She finished tying her shoes, and walked over to the dresser, grabbed an elastic rubber band from her purse, and secured her hair in a long plait down her back.

She looked back at him, his mouth was slightly agape, hands on his hips, and he finally asked, "WHAT?"

She grinned, and said, "I'll get the gear, meet me out front in five minutes."

"No," he said, and then he repeated, "What?"

"Fishing…I want to go fishing. I did it with my dad a couple of times, including both of the times we came up here together, and I recall that you told me once that you love to fish. You said that you used to do it all the time. It's something we can share. We can do it together." She started out of the bedroom door, but he grabbed her arm.

"I don't want to go effing fishing!" he shouted. "First, I do like to fish, but by myself. It's something I do when I'm alone, to think and meditate, and to get away from everyone and everything. I don't have the patience to teach you, and if you've only done it a couple of times when you were a kid, then I would have to teach you. You know how that would turn out. We would have a big fight, because I would yell at you, and you would throw a fit. Let's stay here and make love instead."

Somehow, five minutes later, they were trudging through the woods once more, mucking through the mud, as they did earlier in the day, and though the sun was finally out, the air was clearer, and the humidity was replaced with a brilliant breeze, Draco was as miserable as he was earlier during their walk.

Hermione walked several paces ahead of him, holding the basket, and the two poles, because he refused to help. He walked behind her and complained the whole time. "Who fishes in this day and age?" "People can buy fish and chips in a restaurant, you know." "I refuse to bait the hook for you, and I bet you won't even touch a worm." "I bet you will refuse to touch a fish." "I better not get my hands dirty." "I can't believe I married a woman who would rather fish than make love." "Please, never tell my father I went fishing. He doesn't know that I like to do that. No one knows. It's my own little thing I do, and it's a secret."

He finally said, "I don't like to have to share this with anyone. Fishing is my thing. It's not a joint venture. I don't even want to share it with you."

She turned to face him, threw down the poles and the basket and said, "Really! Is it really something that you can't even share with your own wife?"

"Exactly, Granger! I can't imagine anything worse than fishing with you!" He said it to be mean. He said it because he wanted to go back to the cabin. He said it and immediately regretted it.

"Is this worse than sixth year when you had to do that task for Voldemort? Is this worse than when Harry attacked you in the boy's bathroom that year? Is this worse than the final battle? Is this worse than that time at work when you and Ron encountered those werewolves four months ago and you were almost killed? Or how about when I told you I shouldn't have any more children, just yesterday? Is fishing worse than that?" She glared at him a moment and he raised his hands in surrender.

Finally, without an ounce of anger or malice in her voice she said, "Grow up, Draco Malfoy, and stop being a spoiled brat. I wanted to share something with you, something that my father did with me the two times I came up here with him, and I enjoyed. Something that I had planned to do during my weekend up here, before I asked you to stay. Something that I know you love and you talk about fondly. Nevertheless, I would rather not share anything with you now, not even the air that I breathe, so really, go back to the cabin, okay? Go away, Draco."

She picked up the poles and the basket, turned back around, took a few steps, but then turned her head and said, "Really, just go back to the cabin. I'll be back in a few hours, and we can do something together, that we'll both like. I'm not angry, really, I'm not. I'm disappointed, but I shouldn't expect you to want to share everything with me, should I? I'm sorry."

She walked away and he stood and watched her go. Instead of following, he went back to the cabin. It took him over fifteen minutes to trek back to the cabin. He could have apparated back, but he needed time to formulate commandment number nine in his mind. When he got back, his shoes were caked with mud, as were his pant legs. He felt dirty, and disgusting, and he was angry with himself.

He kicked his shoes off at the door, went to find the list of commandments and wrote a quick number 'nine'. Then he cleaned his shoes and pants with magic, put a charm on them to make them impermeable to mud and water, walked around to the side of the cabin where he had seen a rosebush earlier, cut some of the roses with his wand, and then he located his wife using the four-point charm. Once he knew where she was, he apparated near her, but not close enough for her to see. Not yet.

He watched her from a short distance. She already had her line tangled. She was sitting on the riverbank, he heard her curse, and he saw her shake her hand. She must have punctured her finger with the hook. She healed it with her wand and when he laughed, he revealed himself. She turned and saw him. He had already decided to show her some pity, and make himself known, anyway. He walked up to her, handed her the roses, and then took her pole from her.

They stood side by side, by the river, each with a pole in their hand. He helped her attach bait to the small hook, all the while explaining the reason for the fly and the bobber. He showed her how with a simple flick of his wrist he could cast the line out into the water. She tried several times, but without success. It seemed to come natural to him, and not to her, but he never lost patience with her, as he predicted that he would, and she never became angry, or stormed away, as he also predicted.

After several unsuccessful attempts at casting her line, Draco placed his pole on the bank, and stood behind her. He placed his arms around her, and grabbed her pole, his hands underneath hers. He showed her how to cast her line. Her body felt warm and firm in front of his. He rather liked this. They didn't even speak to each other. They just stood together, watched the river, and continued to cast the line repeatedly. It was nice to share this with his wife.

They never did catch a fish. They stayed at the side of the river, never really talking about anything important, just talking about silly things, or about the scenery around them, or the lack of fish, for over two hours. Finally, he said, "Let's reel it in," and she nodded. His pole was still on the bank, so he reeled in her pole, and after he took care of the hook and fly, he did the same to his. He propped both poles next to a tree, and sat down on a patch of sunny grass, which was dried by the sun, and he patted the area next to him.

She sat next him and placed her head on his shoulder. "This was nice," she said simply.

"It was." He wondered if he should apologize for his tantrum earlier, or if it was implied. When they got back to the cabin, she would see what he had written for number nine and she would know that he had felt remorse for his little outburst. He put her arm around her. He looked at his watch.

"It's after three o'clock," he said. "Where did all the time go?"

"I hardly know." She was silent a moment and then she said, "I miss the baby. Do you think we could go get him and have him spend the night with us tonight? I mean, I would still like to spend one more night here, and then go to the Weasley's for our last official Weasley Family Sunday Supper, but I'd like Cam to be with us."

"We'll go get him after dinner tonight," Draco decided. "I like it here. It's peaceful. Do you think your father would let us come again, sometime?"

"I'm sure he would," Hermione said. "He owns a lot of land around here, so perhaps he would let us build our own little get-a-way cabin."

Draco let out a sigh of relief and said, "Thank, Merlin. We could build a cabin with a real bathroom."

She laughed and pushed on his chest. "You are always so obsessed with bathrooms. Remember during Ron's wedding reception when I dragged you into the broom shed, to escape the throwing of the bride's boutique, and you thought it was the outhouse?" She laughed again and actually snorted.

"And then when you took me upstairs, and I saw the real bathroom, I still thought it was akin to an outhouse," Draco said seriously. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again, how did they bring up twelve children in a house with only one bathroom."

She frowned and said, "Seven children."

"Twelve," he said.

Hermione shook her head and started to rattle off names. "Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Fred, Ron and Ginny. Seven."

He smiled an impish grin and said, "You forgot Doc, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful and Dopey."

Hermione laughed hard again and said, "Those are a few of the seven dwarves."

"Are you sure? Because I think Dopey and Ron are one and the same," Draco said with such a serious look that she started laughing again. She knocked him over and propped herself upon his chest, and looked down at his face.

She said, "Bill would be Doc, George would be Happy, Percy would be Grumpy, I guess Fred would have been Sneezy, Ron would be Sleepy, Charlie would be Bashful, and wait, that would make Ginny Dopey, and she would _so_ not be Dopey."

Draco said, "Potter can be Dopey in the place of his wife. He's fairly dense."

"No he's not." She rolled off him and sat back beside him.

"He's stupid and down right idiotic," Draco said, without a trace of humour. "He wouldn't have even passed school without you."

"He is very smart and he has…well, common sense," Hermione defended. "He has great instincts, and perhaps he doesn't have book smarts, but he's very talented, magic wise. Perhaps the most talented wizard I've ever seen."

"Right," Draco said with spite.

"Let's not argue about Harry," she said with a sigh.

"You like him more than you like me," he said with a fake pout.

"True, put I love you more," she said as a joke. She smiled again. He tackled her and took her wrists in his hands, and straddled her body.

He leaned down and said, "For that, you shall pay. I'm still up for sex, and this time, I will not be appeased, or tricked into going fishing, or going anywhere else. We are going to make love, right here, outside, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Do you understand, young lady?"

"Are you waiting for consent? Get on with it, Malfoy, if you think you can," she challenged.

After his wife and child, there was nothing Draco Malfoy loved more than a challenge.


	13. Chapter 13

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 13:**

Draco peered down to his wife and said, "We are going to make love, right here, outside, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Do you understand, young lady?"

"Are you waiting for consent? Get on with it, Malfoy, if you think you can," she challenged.

"Ha! A challenge," he said, wiggling his brows. "I love a challenge, my sweet wife. Remember our first day together, at the burrow? You challenged me many times that day, and I was always up for everything you dished my way."

She reached up with a finger and moved it around his collarbone, under the opening of his shirt. She said, "By the way, thanks for sharing your love of fishing with me."

"Are you trying to get me off track again?" he asked. He kissed her face, all around and then he said, "That's our number nine, by the way. We have to learn to share of our time, talent, loves, hobbies, everything. I'm a selfish person by nature, and I don't like to share, but I'll try harder."

"Try sharing a kiss, my love," she said with a grin.

It was all the invitation he needed. He lay by her side, picked up her palm, and rubbed its center with his thumb before he placed a kiss there. He leaned his forehead down to her heaving chest and kissed her breast over her shirt. He reached a hand under the hem of her shirt and placed his hand flat on her stomach.

He kissed her mouth even as his hand crept over her jeans button, undid the zip, and slipped inside. His mouth stayed on hers as his hand went to her center and began to move back and forth. She whimpered under his mouth, her hands moving up and down his back, under his shirt.

He moved his mouth from hers long enough to remove his shirt. He bent back down to kiss her mouth, but then he lifted his head just as quickly, as if he just thought about removing her shirt. He removed her shirt, threw it over his shoulder, unhooked her bra, and said, "We better hope there are no men with binoculars around here."

"Let them watch and learn," Hermione said with a grin.

Hermione pushed him so that she was over him, and she explored his upper body, neck and face with her lips, his hands rubbing her back the whole time. Finally, her mouth settled on his, softly, deliberately, longingly, with a gesture of love and caring. She tilted her head slightly, and they both opened their mouths wide so that their tongues mingled and danced.

She raised her head at once, smiled at him, and said, "I know I say this often, but I love you so much."

He simply smiled in return.

They continued to undress the other, a piece of clothing at a time, conscious of each touch, each gaze, each little frisson of movement, each startled intake of breath.

He loomed over her and said, "You're so beautiful. What would I do without you?"

"You'll never know," she answered humbly.

He traced a single finger across her lips, down her throat, across the swell of breasts, down her flat stomach, to the flare of hip, to her leg. Then he traveled the same path with his mouth. He looked at her once more and said, "I've never wanted you more."

"That's the nicest thing you could say," she said.

He loomed over her, grabbed her waist, and attached his mouth to her breast. He sucked hard on one tender nipple, and she arched her back, and held his head close to her. She stroked his hair, his neck, his back. His mouth went to the other breast, as his hand covered the one he just left.

She cradled him in her legs, opening them wide to receive him. He rubbed his face down her stomach, his fingers parting her, his eyes darting back up to hers. He said, "Watch my eyes, Hermione." He continued his assault with his fingers, teasing her, tantalizing, and when she shut her eyes he ordered, "Open your eyes."

"I can't," she said, looking up at him with a laugh.

He laughed too, and as her head lolled back against the hard ground, he decided to take mercy on her soul and he climbed back up her body and entered her swiftly. He kissed her the entire time he was inside her, something he always loved to do. She braced her feet on the ground, raised her hips to meet each thrust, and even while he kissed her, she started her ascent, almost before he started his own.

Sensing this, and thinking it was too soon, and unfair of her to start without him, he stopped completely. He stayed inside her, stopped kissed her and looked down at her face. She looked up at him, almost in pain, and he said, "Did I ever tell you the story of my first time, Hermione?"

"What?" she asked shocked and appalled. "Draco Malfoy you finish what you started," she commanded, out of breath.

"It was with Pansy, you know," he said, rolling his hips slightly, to keep himself 'fully engaged' inside her.

"Draco Malfoy, I will make you pay!" she said, her eyes shut, her head banging on the ground.

He winced himself, but continued, almost enjoying torturing her. "Yes, we were inexperienced fifteen year olds, but we knew the basic mechanics. I had something that went inside something of hers, and it wasn't too hard to figure it all out in the end." He rocked his hips again.

"OH!" she gasped. "Where's my wand, I need to hex you. Where's my wand?" She hit her fist on his back, rocked her hips again, and then she bit his shoulder very hard.

"Ouch, Granger! I scar easily, you do recall," he shouted. He began to thrust again and said, "I just wanted to share with you. That is rule number nine, remember, and Pansy seemed to think I did a good job."

"Please!" she shouted. "Don't mention that woman's name!" She hit his back with her fist.

He stopped again, still inside her, brought his upper body off hers, his weight on his elbows, and said, "Pansy, Pansy, Pansy." He smiled.

She pulled back her fist and hit him so hard on the side of the face that he fell over on his back. He held his cheek even as she straddled him and impaled herself on his still rock hard member. She began to move up and down on top of him and as she moved and she said, "Did I ever tell you about mine and Ron's first time?"

He glowered at her, winced in pain and passion, held her hips and said, "You can keep talking as long as you continue what you're doing."

"Oh, never mind," she said, almost unable to get the words out. She threw her head backwards, and then forwards, and then she came so suddenly and violently that she collapsed down on top of him. He quickly turned her, thrust into her a few more times, and then he 'shared' his release.

Afterward, they lay together for a very long time, neither speaking, her head on his stomach, his hand stroking her hair, when finally she spoke. "I think you're evil. You are seriously not right in the head. What was all that about, earlier? You are never to talk about Pansy when we are making love again. Seriously, you're evil."

"Why, thank you," he said. He moved slowly, placing her head gently on the ground, he cleaned them both with his wand, and then he threw her clothes to her, even as he began to dress himself.

She remained naked, her clothing on top of her. She looked up at him and asked, "Are you going to tell me what all that was about, Malfoy?"

"No," he said plainly. He stood up and looked down at her. "Did I shag you senseless?"

"Unlikely."

"Did I shag you boneless?" he asked instead.

"That's a possibility," she said, pointing up at him. He grinned and kneeled down next to her.

He began to help her dress. Soon, she had her bra, knickers, shirt, socks and shoes on. He had her jeans in his hands and she said, "Hey, how can I put my jeans on over my shoes? You didn't think of that one, did you?"

"I have to admit, I didn't," he said. He placed her jeans on her lap and he pulled her into his arms. He leaned his back against a tree, and pulled her over across his lap. He said, "I'm sorry I teased you about Pansy during our lovemaking. I have a hard time being serious sometimes, especially while I make love to you, because it's the closest thing to perfection I ever feel, it's the closest I feel to you, and so sometimes, because it feels so serious to me, I have to lighten the mood. I'm sorry."

She didn't know what to say to that. It was one of the sweetest, most confusing, things he had ever said to her. "Was Pansy really your first? I thought you once told me your first was a woman your father hired for you."

"Right, Pansy," he said with a smile. She grinned back. She didn't know which the truth was, and she didn't care.

"Was Weaslebee really your first?" he asked, although he thought he already knew the answer.

She slipped off her shoes and stood up to put on her pants. She placed her hand on his head to steady herself as she slipped them on, and then after she had them on, she sat back beside him, put on her shoes and only then did she answer his question. However, her answer wasn't what he expected.

"No, he wasn't."

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstance, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting other.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

6.) Everyday you should strive to make your spouse laugh or smile. Enjoy each other. Find comfort in each other. Play silly games, make up songs, find joy in the little things, and most important of all, remember to always end and start the day with a simple, "I love you", because if you do, you should say it. In other words, be nice and never say mean or hateful things to the person whom you love the most, and who loves you just as much.

7.) If you can't talk to the person you're married to, then you shouldn't talk to anyone. Even if the problem is with them, you need to speak with them first. Be truthful with your emotions, wants, and desires. Don't be afraid to admit what you want and need. Don't be afraid of rejection. Ultimate trust and honestly must be preserved at all times, if a marriage is to be successful. If you can't share your hopes, dreams, fears, and failures, with the person who loves you the most, and without fear of retribution, then you shouldn't share them with anyone else

8.) Spend quality time together every week. Make plans, and keep them. Date your spouse, just as you did when you were courting, (yes, yes, Draco and Hermione never dated, they just got married, we know.) Pick one day a week for a date, even if the date is a simple walk, or as elaborate as a weekend away, and make sure to spend one day a week as a family, because family is forever.

9.) Share your interest and passions with each other. Don't be afraid to show your spouse the 'real you', and what is really important to you. Make time for yourself, but make time to be together. Be selfless with your time and your pursuits. If there is something you enjoy doing by yourself, than you should enjoy it even more sharing it with your loved one. Share of your time, talent, love and life.


	14. Chapter 14

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 14:**

It was early afternoon, they were in the afterglow of just having sex, and Hermione was still dressing, having just slipped on her pants and shoes. She placed her hand on Draco's head to steady herself, slipping on one shoe, then the other. Draco asked. "Was Weaslebee really your first?"

He was sure they had discussed this a few times. She had even discussed the how, where, and when, so he thought he was just making idle conversation.

So imagine his surprise when she didn't answer his question right away. He looked up at her, waiting, and wondering, but before he could repeat his question, she sat back down beside him and said, "No, no he wasn't."

She purposely didn't look at him.

He couldn't look anywhere but to her. He took a couple of deep breaths, but before he could ask her to explain she said, "I think it's getting more humid. It will probably start raining again. Look how grey the sky is over in the east. Those clouds look ominous. We should get back to the cabin before the downpour starts." She scrambled to her knees, and reached for the fishing poles. She had just reached the first one, when he stood up suddenly, and grabbed it from her hand.

He threw it in the lake.

"Draco?" she asked.

The other one was by her knee. He picked it up, and broke it right in two, by hitting it hard against the tree that was previously behind their backs. She looked shocked. He took the fishing basket, but she stood and grabbed the leather strap.

"This was my grandfather's! You will not destroy it just because you're angry about something that doesn't even concern you!" she harped.

"DOESN'T CONCERN ME?" he shouted. He pulled on the basket, and she almost slipped.

"Exactly," she shouted back, holding tight to the strap. "If I had claimed that you were my first, and it ended up you weren't, your anger would be justified, righteous, and completely reasonable! You weren't, and no one ever pretended otherwise! Likewise, I'm not sure this is something we need to discuss, okay?" She let go of the strap and said, "Fine, throw it in the lake, but you have to tell my father, and when he yells at you, you have to take it like a man."

She had made a point, regarding everything. He wasn't her first, his anger wasn't justified, and her father, though a nice man, had a scary temper sometimes. He had nothing on her mother, but still, Draco didn't want to upset Edward, so he placed the fishing basket back on the ground and he said, "I'll buy him new fishing poles."

"Good," she said. She walked away from him, and sat on a rather large boulder near the bank of the water.

He said, "Scoot over," and he sat next to her. He took her hand in his.

"Do you still have that little white rock that I gave you that first night at the Burrow? The one I like to think of as our engagement present?" she asked.

He wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, but he pulled it out of his pocket. It was still smooth and shiny, resembling a piece of polished glass, more than a rock. He said, "You know I always carry it with me. Always have and always will. It's a part of me." He wondered if she was trying to lead him astray, by going down memory lane. He would humour her for the moment, but eventually he would find out with whom she lost her virginity, if for no other reason than morbid curiosity.

She held out her hand, and he placed the smooth stone on her open palm. She fingered it a moment and then held up her wrist and said, "And I still always wear the little polished rock that you gave me that night."

"You mean the diamond bracelet, worth several hundred, thousand galleons," he said with a wiry smile.

"Fine, yes, it's a pretty little rock, that is expensive, too," she said, handing him back his stone, before she fingered the equal sized one that hung as a teardrop from a pendant on her wrist.

"You once told me Weasley was your first," he said, coming back to the thick of things.

"Believe me, this relates," she said. "Remember that night, after I gave you the little rock, and then you told me to shut my eyes, and you had something for me, but then you apparated away?"

"Yes," he recalled, "I had to go get this, and it took me a while, and though I argued with you at the time that it only took me four minutes tops, you were right, I was gone about ten minutes or so, and you thought I left you."

"Yes, and I looked for you everywhere, and I thought you left, and it made me feel very insecure," she reminded him.

"I know, but I came back, and I promised you I would never leave you, but sweetheart, what does that have to do with who your first lover was?" he asked.

She seemed frustrated for a moment. "Remember after we made love that night? Do you recall who I went to talk to, after I went to the bathroom?" she asked.

"No," he answered honestly.

She played with his fingers and said, "No, you have to remember. Remember after we made love, I went to go to the bathroom, I was gone a long time, and you came to look for me. Remember?"

"Hermione, please, just tell me, what are you trying to say?" he asked.

She pulled on his hand, then grasped it tightly in hers and said, "No, remember? I went down to the kitchen, to talk to someone about us."

He looked introspective for a moment, and then he said, "Yeah, you went downstairs, and I went to find you, and I heard you talking with one of the Weasleys, and I sat on the steps to eavesdrop."

"Which Weasley did I speak with that night?" she asked.

"Charlie," he answered slowly. "Hermione?"

"Charlie," she answered back, just as slowly. "He told me if I loved you, I shouldn't care what everyone thought. He said that I deserved love and that you were good for me, and that you would be good _to_ me. He said that I was over thinking things, as I was apt to do, and that I needed to just live a bit. Before you started listening, I confided to him that you and I had just made love. He asked me if it was everything that I had hoped and dreamed, and I told him it was more than I could hope and dream. I said if I could turn back time, I wish I could have given my virginity to you, because in many ways it felt like the first time for me, because it was the only time I really felt as if I made love. Love, Draco, not sex, but love."

Draco didn't know what to say.

She continued with, "He laughed and said something about 'what a way to stroke his ego', but he understood, because it had to be better with you, because I was in love with you, and when you were in love, making love was always better."

"Charlie Weasley was your first?" Draco asked. He was no longer angry, just curious. "I know thought that you told me the story of your and Ron's first time. I know you did."

"I know I did, too, and I wasn't lying to you, when I recounted that story. I was accurately portraying my first time with Ron; it just wasn't MY first time."

"But you know that's what I thought," he countered.

"Why does any of this matter now? It was so long ago," she said. She dropped his hand and sighed. She looked out over the rippling water, just as the raindrops began to fall, mimicking the weather from the morning, and the night before, and the day before that. She held out her hand and said, "We need to get back."

"I want to finish this conversation," he said. He stood up, picked up the basket, took her hand and disapparated them both to the front porch of the little cabin.

Hermione said, "Let me go to the toilet, and take my blood sugar, and then I'll be out and we can talk." She gave him a sad smile, and walked into the cabin. He sat down on the little, wooden loveseat, to wait for her.

He told himself that no matter what, it didn't matter. He knew she had been with other men. In fact, that first weekend that they fell in love, she had said that she had made love to five men in her life. If that was the case, then so what if the rest of them were all Weasleys, as long one of them wasn't Potter, or stupid Oliver Wood, or that wanker from her Muggle neighborhood, whom he met last year. Yes, he could handle a Weasley or two. Not many more than that, but one or two wouldn't be so bad.

She walked back outside, and she had changed her clothes. Her hair had been brushed out, and was down long. She had on red shorts, a white t-shirt, and flip-flops. She was eating an apple, which made him believe her sugar was probably low. He smiled at her and patted the seat next to him.

"Okay, I've been thinking," he started, "As long as you've never had sex with Ollie Wood, I'm fine with everything."

She laughed and said, "Oliver and I only dated that one time, and you know it, and I don't have sex after one date"

"You had sex with me after no dates," he pointed out.

"Wait," she said, laughing, but hitting him hard on the arm. He winced, in real pain. "I thought our whole weekend at the Burrow was a speed dating thing. You said that we had dated the equivalent of something like thirty-two times before we made love that night. Don't you dare ever throw that up to me again, Draco Malfoy." She was still smiling, so he knew she wasn't angry. "And for goodness sakes, what is your problem with Oliver Wood, really?"

"I've always hated him on principle," Draco said, quite sincerely.

"What principle?" she asked, throwing her apple core out among the trees.

"One, he was a fab Quidditch player, and I hated anyone who played better than me. Two, he was a Gryffindor, hello, I was Slytherin, so I hated Gryffindors just because they existed," before she could comment, and he could tell she wanted to, he placed his hand over her mouth and said, "you aren't included in this. These are the rules to hating men." She nodded and he let go of her mouth. "Three, his damn accent was so annoying. Four, well, there might not be a four, but three reasons are enough to hate a man."

"If those three reasons are enough to hate someone, you must hate most of my male friends," she said.

He thought a moment, smiled, and said, "By jove, I think I do."

"Ha!" she said in a clipped tone. "Well, anyway, I've never had sex with Oliver."

"Or, Harry, right?" he asked.

"Yuck," she said, with pure disgust in her voice.

He smiled brightly, hugged her tight and said, "That's my girl. I knew we were almost of the same mindset regarding Potter. I knew someday you would hate him as much as I do."

She pushed away from him and said, "I meant, yuck, he's like a brother to me, and I love him too much, AS A BROTHER, to ever make love to him."

"Wait a minute," he said, pointing his finger at her. "You claimed once that every single Weasley was like a member of your surrogate family. You mourned the loss of your relationship with Weaslebee mostly because you didn't want to sever ties with your pseudo family, so wouldn't making love with Charlie be, in your words, **Yuck**?"

Hermione yawned, rubbed her face with her hands and said, "Oh, Draco, your logical makes me tired sometimes. Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Yes, I do, and I won't judge," he said. He took her hand again.

She said, "First, do you remember something that you told me that first weekend at the Burrow. I mean, you probably remember a lot from that weekend, but probably nothing specific, and I'm sure you don't remember any of your little speeches verbatim, but this was right after you gave me this bracelet, you said the sweetest thing to me, when I said that I couldn't face the possibility of you ever leaving me or hurting me. Remember?"

"I had just gone downstairs to look for you, because I thought you left me, and when you came back, you said the nicest thing to me, something about not ever hurting me, because it would hurt you, too."

"I remember exactly what I said to you, Granger," he said, smiling. While his wife looked on with a smile, Draco kissed her hand, then with a hand placed gently on her cheek he repeated the words he said to her that day. "My dearest, sweetest, beautiful, girl. If I ever do or say anything to you, from this point on, that distresses you, or causes you pain, embarrassment, or harms you physically or mentally, in anyway, than know this, I will be hurting myself as well. Because I really think to hurt you in anyway would be to hurt myself, and to hurt myself is the last thing I would ever want to do."

"That sums up all of our commandments, doesn't it?" she asked.

"I was way before my time. Quite a visionary, really. I amaze myself," he said. "Why did you want to know if I remember that?"

She shrugged, because there was no specific reason. She leaned over, kissed his lips and said, "Okay, here's the story."


	15. Chapter 15

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 15:**

Hermione was about to tell her husband the story of her 'first time' when she said, "Do you think we could go inside and fix a spot of tea, or perhaps a bit of early supper?"

"Is it teatime?" he asked.

"It's after teatime," she said, "and I've feeling peevish again."

"You're always peevish," he joked. She glared at him. "Well, I can't have the little misses feeling off-kilter," he remarked. He took her hand and led her into the cabin, toward the kitchen. He leaned her against the counter. He said, "Just remain there, and I'll fix us something. Really, I will."

"Fine, fix our meal and after you do, I'll tell you my story."

Draco began to fix their dinner, which consisted of the few cans of things she brought with her, canned vegetables, canned pasta, bread and butter, and diet soda. He ushered her to the table in the other room, and after they sat down to start eating, she began to tell her story.

"Ron and Harry were still in Auror training. They only had a few more months to go. I still had two more years of my schooling. We had been so busy over the last three years that we barely had time to ourselves, let alone time together. Their graduation was approaching, and the last time we were together, we came to a sort of understanding, Ron and I."

Draco interrupted and said, "What understanding? That he was a git and that you were too good for him. That he was a stupid arse-hole and you were an effing princess in comparison?"

She cocked her head to the side, her fork in the air, mid bite, and after many seconds, she said, "Yes, that understanding."

He laughed.

She said, "No, we just decided that we wanted to move our relationship along to a more mature level. We were both over twenty years old, in fact, I was over 21, and he was going to be twenty-one, and though I wanted to wait until we were married, we didn't know when that was going to be, so that was impractical."

"In other words," her husband interrupted again, "he said, 'sex or goodbye', right?"

"No, Draco, he was not crass or anything. Ron really did love me at one time, you know." She became quiet and said, "I know you find that hard to believe, but he did."

He pushed his empty plate away and said, "I don't find the fact that you are lovable unbelievable in any way, shape or form, Granger."

She placed her plate on top of his and said, "May I continue?"

He turned on the bench to face her, took both her hands, and nodded. "We knew that his parents were going out of town. His aunt was having surgery for a goiter."

"What's a goiter?" he asked.

"An enlarged thyroid," Hermione said.

"What's a thyroid?" Draco asked, realizing he was asking it just to be annoying, and so he was breaking one of their earlier commandments. He smiled impishly.

"It's a sort of pimple," Hermione lied, because she knew he was asking that just to be annoying.

Draco smiled and said, "No its not. It's a part of the endocrine systems. It's a gland in your body, along with the pituitary, the lymph nodes, and such. It's in your neck, right there." He touched her neck.

She looked shocked. He smiled. "Hey," he began, "when you got sick with your little disease, I made it a point to learn a few things."

"I love you," she said.

"Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? I'm so damn lovable," he said back to her.

"Let's move to the couch," she said. She got up and he followed. "Anyway, the Weasleys were going to his aunt's for her surgery, and so he thought we would have the Burrow all to ourselves. It was all arranged. I arrived before him. I was so nervous."

"I imagine," he said, sincerely.

"I wanted it to be intimate," she continued, "and to show our commitment to each other. I know it sounds like it was all planned out, but you know me, I wanted to be prepared for everything."

He smiled and touched her face. He couldn't believe how much he loved her. He would give away his fortune if he could turn back time and be her first one. She smiled back and said, "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, continue," he urged. He laced their fingers together.

"When I got to the Burrow, his parents weren't there, as planned, but neither was Ron. He was supposed to be there before me. I was confused. I walked all around the house, looking everywhere for him. I knew that Ginny still lived there, but she was off at University. George lived mostly over his shop, but he still had his room there, but he wasn't there. Bill and Fleur had their cottage, Percy lived in London, and no one was home at all. I didn't understand."

"You were worried, as you often are," Draco said, as if he was continuing the story for her.

"Well, yes. I tried to Floo him, but he didn't respond. I Owled, and then waited for a response for an hour, but still no letter back. Finally, Harry sent me an Owl," she said. "All it said was that Ron had flunked some major exam, and that he couldn't meet me because he had to serve some type of extra security detail because of it. Harry said that Ron was sorry, and that was all the note said."

"Stupid ponce," Draco said.

"Harry or Ron?"

"Both or either," Draco said with a shrug.

Hermione laughed and then turned on the couch, placing her legs under her body. "You can imagine how I felt. I bought a new pretty nighty, and new lingerie, and I spent all day pampering myself, and preparing, and reading up on well…you know." She laughed and so did he. "And then he flunked a test, and couldn't come! I was devastated. I sat at the table of the Burrow and I started to cry."

"I'm sorry, love," Draco said. He was and he wasn't. "I could make a big joke right now, about how it was all for the best, and you weren't missing anything that big, but I won't. I'll try to be sensitive. I'll try not to be Dracoish, okay?"

"Oh, Draco, that would be ever so sweet of you," Hermione said grinning. "So, as I was crying, I began to think, maybe it was for the best. We were both virgins, so neither of us really knew what we were doing, and we had never really done much besides snogging, and I began to thing that I might have been a big disappointment to him."

Draco frowned. "Weren't you afraid that he would be a big disappointment to you?"

She said, "Well, I didn't know what to expect, did I, so no, that really didn't cross my mind. I only knew that I didn't want to disappoint him, so I thought, this gives me time to do something about it."

Draco said, "So you thought, let me call Charlie in Romania, say, put all that dragon dung down, hot stuff, and come over here and shag me senseless. Right?"

She laughed and snorted. Then she hit him, really, hard on the arm.

"Ouch, okay, so I was just guessing on that part. You tell me what really happened, but keep it from being too graphic. I really don't want to think of you and any Weasley having sex…well, except maybe Little Red and you. I might enjoy imagining that."

She stared at him and didn't say a word, and resolved not to say a word until he apologized. After a few moments he said, "I'm sorry, continue."

"It wasn't a conscious decision to ask Charlie to help me. It all just fell into place. I was still at the table, alone, and still crying frankly. I was still hatching my plan to get more experience, when Charlie inexplicably came wandering into the room. He was shocked to see me there, and I was shocked to see him. In fact, I screamed and stood up from the table, and he dropped the suitcase that was in his hand. Apparently, he came home for a surprise visit."

Draco began to laugh. "See, the fates were actually smiling down on you, by making Weaslebee a dimwit. If he had passed that exam, big brother Charlie might have walked in on you two doing the nasty."

"Rather nice of the plants to align everything to my advantage that night, huh?" she agreed. "He immediately rushed to me and asked me why I was crying. My face must have turned red or something, because I started to stumble over my words, telling half truths, half lies, like…Ron was coming home, but flunked a test, and I was there to meet him, but just for a moment, and then I was leaving, his parents were gone, no one else was home, or maybe they were, I don't know, la, la, lie, lie."

"In other words," Draco said, falling on his back to lie on the couch, "he didn't believe you."

Hermione placed his feet on her lap and said, "Not at all." She began to rub her hand up and down his leg. She realized it was odd to share an intimate moment with her husband, on the verge of talking about her first intimate moment with another, but it felt natural to be doing so.

Draco held out his arms for her. She moved so that she was laying half on top of Draco, half on the couch, her back against the sofa cushions. She said, "We could move to the little bed." She pointed to the bed in the corner of the room.

"I like it here," he decided. His hand went under her t-shirt. Her bare legs were over his jean-clad ones, and his hand went to cup her bum, and then rub her thighs.

She said, "Charlie told me I was welcome to stay at the Burrow, because I mentioned that my parents were out of town. He said he would go stay with George, but I told him I would rather just go home."

"Then what happened?" Draco asked. He found that he genuinely wanted to know.

"He came right out and asked me what Ron and I had planned for the weekend. I didn't answer him right away, but I really didn't need to, because he guessed. I was gobsmacked, I'll tell you," she said with a light laugh. "In fact, I was mortified. I stood up and started crying again and begged him not to tell anyone."

"He stood up, too, took my hands, and assured me that he wouldn't tell a soul, and then he said he was surprised that Ron and I had waited this long, and he wondered aloud why if we had waited this long, why weren't we waiting until marriage, if that was what I wanted."

"He's a good chap, I always thought so," Draco said truly.

"He is," she agreed. "I told him how I wanted to wait at first, but I still had so much school, and who knew when we were would marry…"

Draco interrupted again… "Or, thank goodness, in your case, **if** you would marry."

"Right, or if we would marry, and so we thought we would just get it over with, and he laughed and asked me if that was Ron's idea or mine," she said. "I told him it was Ron's, but that no one made me do something I didn't want to do. I told him how I wanted our first time to be special and all."

"What did he say?" Draco asked. He began to draw lazy circles on her back, under her shirt, as he kissed her hair.

"He said if it was right, it would be special, and we wouldn't have to go out of our way to make it so, it just would be," she said. "He said that all that mattered was that you loved the person you did it with, and that you trusted them. He said it didn't matter if it was your first time, or your one-hundredth time, that no one should ever have empty sex. It should always be making love." She looked up at him. "Remember when I said that to you the weekend we fell in love? I told you I would never have sex with you. I said we would only make love, remember? I got that sentiment from Charlie."

Draco cupped her cheeks and kissed her squarely on the mouth. She placed her head back on his chest. "I told him I was scared. I told him I did love Ron, but that I was afraid I would disappoint him, because I was inexperienced. I said that I wished there was a way I could find experience, and yet, still do all the things he had just said…you know, trust the person, care for them, and all. That's when I knew I was going to ask him to be my first. It popped in my head, and it wouldn't go away."

Draco asked, "Were you afraid to ask him?"

She hesitated and then said, "I can't even tell you how afraid I was to ask him. I said, 'Charlie, I'm scared,' and he said, 'Then it's not the right time for you and Ron,' and I said, 'No, I mean, I'm scared because I want to ask you something,' and he laughed and said, 'I've never given advice to an innocent young girl before, but I guess there's a first for everything,' so he took my hand, sat us back down at the table, and told me to ask away."

Draco suddenly wanted to sit up. He moved so that he was sitting back on the couch, and she cuddled into his arms. He practically held her in his lap. She said, "I told him that I didn't have questions, because I had already read plenty of books on the 'how', and he said, 'of course you have'." Draco echoed that thought in his head.

"I said, 'No, I have more of a favour to ask,' and he said, 'Sweetheart, I already told you, I won't tell a soul you were here,' and I said, 'No, I want you to be my first.' And he stared at me for a long time, and I could tell from his expression, he thought I was half-joking, half-mad, and finally he jumped up from the table so fast that he knocked his chair over and he held out his hands and said, 'NO, no, no, no, no!'. I stood up, and said, 'Of course not, why would you, I'm such a fool, I'm so sorry, please don't tell anyone,' and I ran up stairs and locked myself in Ginny's room and started to cry out of embarrassment."

Draco felt embarrassed for her, and for him, and if there had been a fly on the wall back then, he would have felt sorry for it as well. "Oh, Granger, you have the finesse of a hippogriff. That poor man. Here he was, being all sweet and kind to the girl who was dating his little brother, the girl he always thought of as a little sister, and you suggest something like that. What did you expect? It wasn't that he was repulsed by you! It was probably more the fact that for the briefest of seconds, he thought, 'YES!' and then of course, all those other emotions came into play. He probably felt like a right, ole leech."

Hermione smiled at the memory now and said, "I know, poor man." She shook her head at the memory and said, "He came upstairs, to talk to me, so that tells you of the caliber of man that he is. Most men would have run away or hid, or oblivated my memory, or their own. He knocked on Ginny's door, and I yelled something childish like, 'Oh, just go away,' and he said, 'Hermione, please, let me talk to you'."

"I opened the door, and he stood there with a big smile on his face and I drew my wand and said, 'I swear by all that is holy, if you laugh at me Charlie Weasley, I will hex you,' and he said, 'I swear, I would never laugh at you. Just tell me, why would you want me to be your first?' and I said, 'Because I've never done it before and you have,' and then he did laugh."

Draco laughed too. "That's a right funny answer, Granger."

She looked a bit embarrassed and said, "I know, I know. I told him again not to laugh at me, although by now, I saw the humour in the situation, too. He told me that was such a Hermione thing to say."

"It is," Draco agreed.

"It is," she agreed too. "We sat in the doorway of Ginny's room and talked for hours. He told me about his first time, and Bill's first time, which by the way, happened after Charlie's first time. He told me about George's first time, and Fred's. He lied and told me that Percy was still a virgin."

Draco said, "That probably wasn't a lie. I think he still is."

"He's been engaged to Penelope Clearwater for ten years," Hermione said.

"Engaged, not married, so we may never know, will we?" Draco pointed out. Hermione shrugged. Draco finally asked, "Then how did you two finally end up, you know, having, I mean, making love?"

She sighed. "I don't want to get into the graphic details either and this is getting to be a rather long story, but after we talked for hours, I finally pointed out to him that he would be perfect for my first time, just because _he was_ so understanding about all of this. I told him that he was patient with me, he talked to me, he didn't make fun of me, and he hadn't tried to take advantage of me. I told him that I knew he would never hurt me, or tell anyone. I told him that I knew he would be discreet, and he wouldn't laugh at me if I did something wrong, or embarrassing. I knew I could ask him questions, without fear of degradation. He wouldn't take advantage of me, and that he cared for me, and that I cared for him."

"I finally said, 'Please, Charlie. This means a lot to me. I understand if you say no, but I trust you almost as much as I trust Ron and Harry. Just consider my request. If you say no, I'll never ask again, and I would never make you feel worse for it'."

"That last little bit made him smile. I swallowed hard, held his hand tightly in mine, and said my last little bit to convince him. I said, 'Charlie, will you be my first? Will you show me how to make love? Will you let me give you my virginity?' He said, 'Hermione, if you had asked that question in any other way, I probably would have said no, but I'm going to say yes, and I know I don't even have to warn you not to tell anyone, and I don't have to tell you that I won't hurt you, or that this won't lead to anything. I trust you as much as you trust me'."

Hermione's hand went over her face, as if she was suddenly, somehow, embarrassed at that old memory, and after the long story. Why now? Draco wondered. Draco said, "You asked him if you could 'give him' your virginity?"

"I know, I know, a bit on the trite side," she said. "Who says things like that?"

"You do," he said. "My only regret is that you didn't get the chance to say it to me."

"Well, we hated each other back then. You would have been in Auror training with Ron and Harry, and if I had gone to you and said that to you back then, you would have laughed your arse off," she said playfully.

"No," he protested, but then he said, "Yes, but then I would have taken your virginity so fast your head would have spun."

"And I would have learned nothing," she joked. "Charlie pulled me into his chest, and held me for a while, and then, well, as I said, graphic details aside, we went to his old room, and he showed me what I needed to know." She placed her head on her husband's shoulder. She said, "As I was leaving early the next morning, he walked me down to the Floo, pulled me into his chest once more, kissed the top of my head, and he said, 'remember, sweetheart, only make love to people who you love and who love you back. Even if the next time isn't your first time, it will still be precious'. I looked up at him and I said, "I love you, Charlie', and he said, 'and I you', and then he kissed my lips, a very sweet, romantic kiss, and I left."

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Draco asked, his hand stroking her hair again, as he imagined her, young, fresh, and virginal.

"No, Charlie and I made a pact never to tell anyone. I knew I could never tell Ron, or Ginny and though I could have trusted Harry, because he never would have told anyone, neither would he have understood why I had to do it that way."

"You just told me, so you broke your pact with Charlie," Draco pointed out.

Hermione pushed away from him slightly and said, "Well, that's different, isn't it? You're my husband. You're my best friend in the whole world. You know me better than anyone does. Sometimes, I think you know me better than I know myself. Charlie made my first time a wonderful, perfect experience. He was patient, kind, and considerate, but Draco, you've made every time we've made love all of those things and so much mover. You are the other half of my heart. I only wish I could give my virginity to you."

"Oh, Granger," he said, too emotional to say anything else. He pulled her back into his embrace. He held her, while the lump in his throat eased. Finally, he managed to say, "I'm glad you have such a nice memory of your first time, because Weaselbee might have ruined you forever, if his big brother hadn't shown you that there was a difference between making love and having sex."

Hermione grinned, moved slightly so she could look in his eyes and said, "You silly man. Charlie never showed me that. You did. The first time I ever truly made love, was the first time I was in love, and that my dear, was with you."

He smiled. He loved his wife. Enough said.

* * *

_A/N: The whole Charlie/Hermione first time thing was originally a one-shot I had written in long hand, and I condensed it and added it to this story, because I wanted to use it somehow, and it was apparent I was never going to write it up any other way._

_By the way, thank you so very much to whoever nominated the first story of this series (__An Unlikely Pair)__ for the Dramione Awards, round five. However, I declined the nomination. It was nominated for B__**est Fluff**__, but it won second place in that same category during round three of the awards, so I thought it was time for a different story, by a different author, to be recognized, and also, I rather thought I have written so many things since that first story, you know?_

_That doesn't mean I didn't appreciate whoever nominated my story, because I did, so very much. Thank you to whoever did, and thanks to the moderators of the awards for all their hard work._


	16. Chapter 16

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 16:**

He wasn't sure how long they had been lying together on the couch, but the rain had ceased once, and then had started once again. The sky was a dusty grey. He was certain it was getting late. It was late afternoon, or early evening. Hermione had fallen asleep some time ago. He had spent the last hour or so holding her as she slept, reminiscing about the last fourteen months of married life, and wondering how such a pompous arse, total git, named Draco Malfoy, got so lucky as to marry one Hermione Granger.

He had always been a very selfish, self-centered, egotistical, boorish, snobbish man, whose own welfare and self-preservation went before all others. Then, fourteen months ago, he went to a former girlfriend's wedding, waited outside the chapel after the eventful nuptials, all because he had a slightly sick, almost stalker-ish fascination, nay obsession, with a former Gryffindor, Mudblood extraordinaire, former bane of his existence, the aforementioned Hermione Granger, now Hermione Granger no hyphen Malfoy.

If he were honest with himself, which he very rarely ever was, he set out that day to make her his. If he ever told her that, she would grimace, snarl, and perhaps berate him. He smiled, and kissed the top of her head at the thought, but it was the truth. He wanted her and he got her, point, set, and match. He held her in his arms while a roar of thunder sounded off in the distance, and he truly wondered how his life would have been so utterly altered if he hadn't pursued her that day. His life would be so much worse. With her, he thought his life was close to perfect.

He would no longer describe himself as selfish, because she had taught him how to place the feelings of others before his own. He would give his life for his wife and son. He would never have thought that was possible.

He was no longer self-centered, even though she probably thought that he was. He truly thought of her first. Before he acted on anything, he always thought, 'what would Hermione think about this?' or 'what would Hermione say about this?' or even, 'would Hermione yell at me if I did this?'

She taught him to give of himself. She taught him to love others before he loved himself, and she taught him to laugh, and to be silly, and to have fun. He never had fun growing up, and then that weekend they fell in love, and then even the weekend after their honeymoon, when they went to their parents' houses, he had more fun than he had ever had in his whole life, and it was because of her.

She had once told him the very same thing. She told him once that weekend was the most fun she had ever had.

She also once told him that he was the smartest man she knew, that he never failed to make her laugh, and he wondered, when did that happen? When did that Draco Malfoy make an appearance? He knew the answer to that. That Draco Malfoy remained hidden deep inside, until Hermione Granger set him free.

There was a time when he truly hated her and everything she stood for, and so help him, he was so ashamed of that now. Whether it was urged by the jealously of a child, or the misguided teachings of a misbegotten youth, he would never know. He only knew that he started to feel differently for her sometime during his seventh year in school, when she was gone. He actually missed her that year.

Then, he found himself thinking differently about her when he started working with her friends, and the rest…was history.

He waited for her at a chapel, and his life changed.

What would his life be if he hadn't? He shuddered to think. Hermione moved in his arms. He looked down at her, and she was now awake. "How long was I sleeping?"

"No clue," he said, and then he kissed her cheek.

"What time is it?"

"No idea," he answered, and then he kissed her eyebrow.

"Is it storming again?" she asked.

"That one I can answer, yes, it is starting to, at least, I think," he said. "Are we going back tonight?" He sat up on the couch, which forced her to sit up. "Because if we are, we should be going."

She stretched her arms above her head, and he tickled her ribs. "Draco, stop," she said as she swatted at his hands. "Would you be terribly angry if we stayed one more night? We can get an early start tomorrow. Remember, that was always my plan, to stay until Sunday. I thought we were still going to do that."

Instead of answering he said, "Did you still want to go get Cyg, and bring him back here?"

"While I miss him terribly, I think I want to spend the rest of our sojourn by ourselves," she answered honestly. "I think this outing is what we needed."

He merely said, "Hmm." He stood up and looked out the window. Then he opened the door and looked outside, and then he opened the screen door and walked out to the porch. She followed. He frowned and pointed out toward the line of trees, past the road.

She followed his finger with her eyes and said, "It's flooding!"

"That would appear to be the case," he said dryly. Though the cabin sat high up on a hill, and the drive was steep, the little road beyond the drive had rapid water running down it. There was also water and mud running down the hillside.

Hermione said, "It must be from all the rain the last two days. I bet the river's flooding. The road is probably flooded. That's happened here before."

"We should apparate home, then," he said, with a slight frown. She placed his arm around her shoulder.

"I can't leave my car here." He looked down at her and he thought she was crazy.

"I'll buy you a new car."

"What if something happens to the cabin?" she asked.

"If something were to happen to the cabin, it would happen whether we were in it or not, and I for one, would rather not be in it. What could we do, anyway?" he asked. "Forget it, Granger, I know that look. No, we're going home. I won't have you put in danger. I was just thinking earlier that you mean too much to me, and I won't have you in harm's way."

"But," she started.

"No, we are going home, and you know your dad cares more for us, than he does for this stupid cabin."

"Draco, the cabin is probably fine, because it's on a hill, but I really don't want to leave my car here," she said. He shook his head and started back in the cabin. She ran in behind him. He went in the bedroom and began to pack. He began to pack her things first. She took a sweatshirt right out of his hands, and slipped it over her t-shirt, because she was getting cold. He threw a pair of her jeans in the bag, and she took them out and shimmed out of her short, and slipped on the jeans. He merely stared at her.

"Good, you're dressing for the trip home," he said. He took her shorts and threw them in her bag. She took them back out. He took them out of her hands. She grabbed for them. They began a tug-of-war with her shorts. Soon, they ripped down the middle. He said, "Keep that half. This half is going home with me." He threw his half in the bag and began to pack his things in his bag.

Hermione sat on the bed and said, "Can we stay another hour?"

"You can," he said, "I'm leaving, and I'm taking all of your things with me."

"Draco, why oh why are you so bullheaded?" she asked. She fell on her back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

He stopped packing and sat beside her body. He placed his hand on her hip and said, "Why do you want to stay?"

"It's been perfect here," she said.

"Without our baby?" he asked.

"Do not mistake what I meant, and do not start another argument please. Remember our commandments," she said evenly.

He realized what he was doing, and he said one word. "Sorry."

"What I meant," she continued, "was that we've worked out so many things, and without the stress of everyday things weighing us down, I've felt closer to you than I have in a long time. It's been nice, that's all."

"But not perfect," he corrected.

"Close to," she answered back.

"Let me show you something," he said. He stood up and reached in his jeans pocket.

She propped up on one elbow, grinned and said, "I've seen that before, and it's nice, but not perfect."

"Ha!" he said sarcastically. "I'm not showing you my member, Granger, and by the way, it is perfect, and you know it." He took out his wallet, and then retrieved a small, folded, piece of paper. He unfolded it and then handed it to her. She sat up, read it, and then handed it back and smiled.

"So let me get this straight," she said. "You carry the little white rock I gave you in your pocket everyday, and you also carry with you that poem I wrote you?"

He shrugged and retorted, "I always want things around me that remind me of you."

"I'm always around you. Don't I remind you of me?" she said with a laugh.

"Not particularly," he said with fake disdain. "You wrote this for me, when I made my list of things that makes a girl perfect for you. One of them was to have her write you a love poem, and you wrote this for me, remember?"

"I recall doing everything on your little list, from making you cookies, to wearing your dirty t-shirt, to trying to make your favourite food, although that didn't turn out well. I think I did them all, except for one, which was passing gas, because that one didn't make sense to me at the time, and it still doesn't," she said.

He hopped on the bed beside her, took the poem back from her and said, "Plus you think you're too good to pass gas."

"No I don't," she harped.

"Yes you do. You claim you don't even pass gas!" He laughed.

"Well, I don't," she said while hitting his arm.

"Everyone does!" he said back.

"Are you telling me that Lucius Malfoy passes gas?" she asked.

The laugh died on Draco's lips, he thought for a moment, and then said, "Okay, maybe everyone doesn't. Still, this poem described your perfect day. Shall I read it aloud for you, to remind you?"

"I just read it again, plus I wrote it, so I recall what I wrote," she expounded.

He ignored her and read:

"The Perfect Day – by Hermione Granger (no hyphen) Malfoy

The perfect day,  
Is spent with my husband.  
Wrapped in his arms.  
His mouth upon mine.  
My head on his chest,  
Listening to his heart beat.  
Everyday with him,  
Is perfect in everyway.  
And how I lived my life before him,  
I will never know.  
Because loving him is perfect.  
He is perfect.  
We are perfect, together."

"That, Granger, is the perfect day, not only for you, but for me," and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that he had just spent the perfect afternoon with her, too, while she was sleeping in his arms, and he was thinking about how much he loved her. Hermione was right. This place was perfect.

He sighed, put the poem on the top of the dresser, and unpacked their bags. She watched him. He said, "I swear, though, if this little cabin gets washed away in a flashflood, we're apparating out of here, understand?"

"Come here," she said, her arms outstretched for him.

He sauntered over to the bed to lay down beside her, on their sides, face-to-face, nose-to-nose, smile-to-smile. "What do we do now, Granger?" he asked.

"We could come up with our last commandment," she determined.

"It has to be something good, almost earth-shattering," he decided.

"No pressure there," she said with a chuckle. She took his large hand in both of hers and said, "I just know that no matter what the tenth commandment is, I promise to strive to live the rest of my life never breaking the other ones, and trying very hard to make you happy, and putting you first. I really will try, okay?"

He smiled, leaned over, and kissed her on the forehead. "That's a promise from me, to you, too." He let her continue to play with his fingers, threading hers between his; placing small kisses on his palm, finally resting his hand firmly in hers, on the top of her chest. She moved to her back and sighed. "What?" he asked.

"This is the perfect day, isn't it?" she said wistfully.

"My perfect day, by Draco Malfoy," he said, off the top of his head. "My perfect day would be spent with my wife and my child. My perfect day would be spent laughing and playing. My perfect day would be to find out all of my wife's secrets, even how she lost her virginity." Hermione giggled. "May I continue?"

"Go on then," she said.

"Where was I?" he asked.

"My virginity," she said.

"Oh yes, also known as how Hermione once cheated on her boyfriend, Ron," Draco said with a laugh. Before he could say another word, she sat up on the bed, and the smile, which was previously plastered on her face, fell off so suddenly, he wondered what he had said or done.

She scooted to the edge of the bed, looked back at him once, and then in a sad, small voice, said, "Leave it to you to ruin an otherwise perfect day, Malfoy." She stood up, went to the bathroom, and shut the door.

All he could say was, "Oh, shite." He realized that with that one little slip up, he hadn't placed her feelings first at all, so perhaps he wasn't the changed man that he thought he was. He had been hurtful, and in truth, he had meant to be, because he had thought it as soon as she told him the story earlier. Maybe he hadn't changed at all. Maybe he was still the same old Draco Malfoy. That thought caused him to hang his head in shame.


	17. Chapter 17

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 17:**

She wondered if the rain would ever stop. It had to be after nine o'clock at night, she had been here over twenty-four hours, and it had rained at least twenty of those twenty-four hours. She sat huddled against the backdoor to the little cabin, off the little galley kitchen, with the small awning over the backdoor as her only coverage, and she was wet, tired and frankly, a bit cramped. She had been out here for probably over an hour. Ever time she heard a crick and or a creak she was afraid it was her husband, but thus far, he had not come out to check on her.

She was glad she had thought to put on that sweatshirt, since the night air was chilly. She pressed her back as close to the backdoor as she could, and brought her knees up to her chest. Her legs were as wet as they could be. If she had left the bedroom with her wand, she might have disapparated away, and perhaps this time, he never would have found her.

Seriously, why did he always have to go for the jugular vein with his cutting remarks? And what hurt the worst was that he was one-hundred percent right this time. He voiced the very opinion that had been nagging at her all these years, always at the back of her mind, threatening to spill out. She had cheated on Ron, and with his brother, and though she wanted to make it sound noble, or just, or romantic, or poetic, it was no different from what Ron had done to her years later, when he cheated with Pansy.

Except that Ron was caught, and everyone eventually knew about it, and with Hermione, only three people knew…Charlie, Hermione and now Draco. At least two of those people would take that secret with them to the grave, and one of them might not, although that person might die tonight if he said one more crass or hateful thing to his wife.

She should never have told him. When it was tumbling out of her mouth, she knew he would come to that conclusion, and she honestly couldn't blame him, because it was the truth, and deep down, it was the only secret she was afraid to tell him, but she had always wanted him to know it. She didn't particularly have a deep-seated need for Draco to know who her first lover was; no, it was simpler than that. She had wanted Draco to know that she had once cheated on Ron.

In addition, more than that, she wanted to know that he would forgive her.

Moreover, she still wasn't sure about the latter, because she wasn't sure that he would forgive her.

The light over the cement steps turned on suddenly, and she looked up, cupping her eyes with her hands. The light was a dull yellowish hue, and she knew he was finally looking for her. It was about damn time. The door opened, toward the kitchen, and the screen squeaked open, toward her, pushing her closer toward the side of the house. He blocked her against the wall and the screen door as he stepped out onto the small steps. He flipped off the light from the inside, before he let the screen door slam shut.

He sat beside her and she shivered. He took off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. Finally, he said, "Are you ever coming back in the house? You're soaked to the bone, you know."

"I know, and no, I'm not coming back in, ever."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"You're staying out here forever?" he asked, hardly able to suppress his grin.

"Maybe not that long," she honestly answered. Hermione reached for his hand, and grasped it in hers. "Do you forgive me?"

"For what?" He took his wand and dried her the best he could.

She looked at him oddly. "For cheating on Ron."

"At least you've never cheated on me." He laughed and then turned serious and said, "You've never cheated on me, have you?"

"No, and I would never do it, I promise."

"Then it's all good," he said honestly. "But you know, I think you had to know I would think of that. You're smart, and even though the point of your little story was to tell me about how sweet Charlie was, and how you lost your virginity among rainbows and butterflies, you had to know I would immediately go to the whole, wow, she did it while she dated the Weasel."

She nodded in agreement.

"I've cheated on every girlfriend I've ever had," he admitted for no scrupulous reason.

"And that is suppose to make me feel good, how?" she asked, with a frown.

"It's supposed to make you see that you're not the only lowlife cheater in our family," he said with a straight face.

"Draco!"

"Fine," he conceded, "but I've never cheated on you, Muggle Muffin, and I never will. Ever. Let's make that our tenth commandment and be done with it."

"That's a real commandment," she pointed out.

"Thou shall not cheat on your spouse?" he asked.

She gave him an exasperating look and said, "Adultery, darling. Thou shall not commit adultery. It's one of the big ones, up there with not killing and all."

"Damn, didn't they leave us with any good ones?" Draco asked. He laughed and knocked his shoulder into hers.

"You cheated on Pansy?" she asked. "Because, I rather like to think that you did."

"First, I never really dated her. We were shag buddies, and nothing more," he said.

Hermione snorted and said, "Shag buddies? Where did you hear that one?"

"Your mum," he said, crassly. "The point is, we never had an understanding, but I've dated a few women, and though I tried to stay committed, I never could, until I met you. Hell, I stayed committed to you even before I started dating you. I decided to stay true to you before I started dating you, when I only decided that you would belong to me, but you didn't know you would belong to me yet."

"That's sweet," she said, though she was frowning. "I always like to hear how you used to be my stalker."

"Yes, it's nice going down memory lane," he agreed. She gave him an odd look and he smiled. "Hey, remember the rules we made that weekend after our honeymoon, about how to have a great marriage. Those should just be our commandments. Do you know whatever happened to that list?"

"I don't know to what you are referring, but let's go inside, it's dark, cold, and wet out here." She stood up, but he wouldn't move from in front of the door. She tried to pull on his hands, but he still wouldn't budge.

"You know what one I mean!" he insisted. "We were at the Burrow, and we had only been married two weeks, and we had just spent one night at your parents' house, and one night at the Manor, and then when we went to the Burrow, you got a piece of parchment, and Percy gave you a Muggle pen, and we wrote another one of our famous lists."

Hermione sat back beside him on the cement steps and said, "I swear, I would love to know how your mind works. You remember the most inane things, but simple things, like our anniversary, you forget."

He gave her a hard glare, then he stood up abruptly, pulled on her arms, and then he pulled open the door. He practically pushed her inside. While they walked to the main room he said, "Don't hurt my feelings. That's one of our commandments, Muggle Muffin. I'm sorry for the one-hundredth and forty-second time, okay. I'll never forget our anniversary again, but you know the list I'm trying to make you recall was written on our two week anniversary, which I remembered and you forgot, by the way."

She sat on top of the table, gave him a little giggle, and said, "One-hundredth and forty-second? Two-week anniversary? Muggle Muffin?"

He laughed as well, and stood in front of her knees, his arms around her body, and he pulled her closer to him and said, "Did you just now hear the Muggle Muffin part? I called you that twice now. Do you really not recall this list?"

"I recall everything. It's in my vault." She pointed to her head.

"Oh, that musky, old, used up thing?" he asked. He kissed her forehead. "I'm surprised anything else fits up there." Before she could protest, he said, "I bet you have it saved somewhere at home, along with it being saved up in your stupid, brain vault."

"Better than that, you pureblooded heartthrob, you, I have it in my journal!" She pushed him away, and ran to the bedroom, and came back with a worn, old notebook, that had bits of papers sticking everywhere out of it, and a cover that was tattered and torn.

"I need to buy you a new journal," he said.

"You did, twice now," she said, shaking her head in shock. "See, you have the worst selective memory. You've bought me two new journals, and I've used both of them. I brought them, too. I like to bring my old ones with me, when I go somewhere." She sat on the bench, and began to peruse the pages.

A yellowed newspaper article floated from the pages onto the floor. She bent down to pick it up, but he picked it up first, and sat beside her. He frowned and said, "Yuck, it's about Potter."

"I used to save all of Harry's articles, even the unflattering ones," she admitted. She flipped through some more pages, and then she stopped and laughed. She pointed to a page and said, "Oh, look." She laughed.

On the page was written, repeatedly, in pink ink, with hearts and flowers: "_**Hermione Granger loves Oliver Wood."**_ Draco blanched. Hermione stood up and said, "This is the wrong journal. This is my oldest one."

"It better be!" he yelled as she ran to the other room. She came back with another one, that looked just as worn and dilapidated. "That one better not have any mention of Wood!"

She opened a few pages, laughed, and showed him a similar page that said: _**"Hermione Granger loves Ron Weasley."**_ He made a distasteful look, but shrugged.

"Where's the one that says you love me?" he asked, pulling the journal over to him. He began to flip through the pages. He couldn't find a page that said anything regarding him. "I'm not in the bloody book!" he shouted.

Hermione pulled the book back to her and said, "Well, I didn't love you in school. This is the wrong one, too." She hopped up again, but he placed his hand on her arm.

"Why did you bring all of these with you this weekend?"

"I thought I was coming up here alone, and I thought I might want to look at my old writings, and poems, and articles, and things. Don't you ever like to do that? Don't you ever like to recall your old life?" she asked as she bounded back to the bedroom.

"I had no real life before you, Granger," he said, and though he said it lightly, he meant every word.

She sat back beside him and said, "That's sweet," flippantly, meaning that she didn't believe him. He was glad, because he didn't want to appear pitiful.

She opened another old spiral, Muggle notebook toward the middle and said, "Ah, here's the weekend we fell in love. Listen to what I wrote. '_**I love Draco Malfoy. It's crazy, because we've just reconnected this weekend, at the wedding of Ron and Pansy, and though everyone looks at us as though we are the most unlikely of pairs, I don't care, for I love him more than I ever thought I could ever love another human being.**_' I forgot I wrote that." She looked up at him, and he framed her face with his hands, and kissed her lips long and languidly.

"That's the nicest thing ever, Granger," he said. "See, you have a notebook that says you love me."

"Well, I didn't write 'Hermione Granger loves Draco Malfoy' but the sentiment is a bit better, isn't it?" she asked. She leafed through a few more pages and finally found their list. She giggled with glee, wiggled in her seat, and said, "I found it!"

He grabbed it from her, and read it aloud.

Rules to a Perfect Marriage

By

Draco A. Malfoy and

Hermione J. Granger Malfoy

1- Have lots of great sex!

2- The wife (in this case, Hermione) is always right.

3 - Too much crying might drown you.

4 - If you are going to be a wanker, don't let your spouse overhear you.

5- Don't kiss your wife's neck while she is making a salad, (unless she has diabetes, and it helps to diagnose her, in that case in point, it is acceptable.)

6 - If you there is something that your spouse doesn't like, be sensitive to their point of view. (Or, throw away a pretty boy poster or else be prepared to lose a closet door.)

7 – Don't run away without explanations.

8 - Cherish the little moments in life, for they tend to mean the most (sappy but true)

9 - Think of little games to keep your marriage fresh and new.

10 – Just love each other, and never forget it.

He finished reading and then said, "See, ten of them. We were way before our time. We had ten perfectly good commandments, written fourteen months ago, so we didn't have to waste our time writing new ones this weekend."

"We wrote better ones this time," she pointed out, "although I like the second one of our old list." She leaned over his shoulder, pointed to number two, and said, "The wife is always right. Yes. I like that. Number four is a rule you should definitely live your life by, since you're a wanker fifty percent of the time, and number five should definitely say something about fainting, because you definitely fainted, if I recall, right after I cut my hand, when you saw…ALL…THAT…BLOOD!" She emphasized the last three words.

He gave her a hard glare and said, "We agreed never to mention what we were to refer to as 'the incident' ever again, Granger."

"By the incident, do you mean when you fainted? When I bled, and you saw all that blood, and you passed out, right on the floor of my parents' kitchen? That incident? The fainting incident? That one?" She had a look of utter innocence on her face.

He looked at the list and said, "Number three is one you might remember this weekend, too, Darling, as you've cried as much this weekend as you did that weekend."

"Oh, boo-hoo," she said with a laugh. "I know one we could try to obey right now, if you would like." She stood up and walked to the bedroom.

He put the list back in her journal and said, "Please say its number one, and not number seven." He followed her to the bedroom.


	18. Chapter 18

**All characters belong to JKR**

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Chapter 18: **

As Hermione and Draco walked into the bedroom, a piece of folded parchment wafted down from the closed notebook in Hermione's hand, and before she could bend down to pick it up, Draco leaned down and grabbed it right before it hit the floor.

She placed the notebooks in her opened suitcase on top of the dresser and held out her hand for the parchment. He started to hand it to her, but then drew it back toward himself. "What is this?" he said, even as he unfolded it. "It looks familiar."

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled and said, "It should look familiar. You wrote it."

He looked perplexed, and sat down beside her even as he read it. He only read the first few lines, and then he looked up and said, "What gave you the right to keep this?"

"What?" she asked confused.

"I wrote this, and if memory serves, I also threw it in the rubbish heap shortly after. What did you do, dig around in the trash bin to get it out and then put it in your little journal?" he asked. He stood up and unfolded the parchment again, looked at it for a moment, and then balled it in his fist.

"Wait, don't do that," she pleaded. She stood up and reached for it, but he held it up high.

"Seriously, why do you have this?"

"What is your problem?" she asked sincerely. "Draco Malfoy, you're acting every bit the spoiled brat right now. If you recall, I asked you right after our two week little anniversary dinner thing at the Burrow, what our perfect first date would have been, and you said you had no idea, but then later that night, you wrote me this note, telling me our perfect first date, and courtship. That's why I kept it, because goodness knows I didn't get a real courtship or first date."

He pushed on her chest with one hand and she tumbled back to the bed. He loomed over her and said, "Wait a second, wait a second. You had a bloody, fabulous courtship lasting over 24 hours, and each hour was a date, Granger! And if I recall, we had just spent the weekend at our parents' houses, after our honeymoon, and that Sunday we went to the Burrow where I had that nice little two week anniversary dinner planned for you on the porch, when all the Weasleys served us dinner, with romantic music and such, so even if we were already married, that was our first date! I even gave you a gift!"

Hermione wondered why he was becoming so angry. She said, "Yes, and then I gave you a gift too, remember?"

"Oh, that," he said, dismissively, swatting his hand in front of her.

"Oh, that?" she said, incredulously. "That, Draco, was the day I told you I was pregnant, but that's beside the point!" She stood up but he pushed her back down. She gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, and he actually shrugged and laughed.

"Sorry," he said. "Stand up if you want."

"Oh, I want," she said. She stood up and said, "Where was I?"

"Berating me, I'm sure," he said. He took her place on the bed.

"No, I was explaining." She stood in front of him and said, "When we got home, I told you that, that little dinner was the perfect date, and it was too bad we hadn't had a real first date, and you said that you often imagined having a first date, and a second date, and even a third one with me. You said that you had often wondered how our dating would have progress, if we had indeed ever started to date. I asked you to explain to me your perfect date, or your perfect courtship of me, and you told me, and I quote, 'Go sod off, Granger,' unquote."

Draco laughed.

"Then, when I woke up in the morning, this little gem was under my pillow, and I read it, and my heart melted, because it was so perfect."

"Then do you recall what you said?" he asked. He crossed his legs, and his foot began to bob up and down. His mouth was in a firm line.

"More hurtful than, 'Go sod off, Granger,' you mean?" she asked, with a slight laugh.

He looked at his nails and said, "I'm waiting. Tell me what you said, you horrible, horrible, human being."

"You look scary when you do that," she commented.

"I'm still waiting. Do you recall the hurtful thing you said," he repeated.

She sat beside him on the bed, sighed and said, "I was joking. You joke all the time. You say things flippantly, without forethought, and that was all it was, really."

"What hateful, terrible, mean spirited thing did you say, after I wrote you a wonderful, sweet little note, Granger?" he asked.

She sighed again. She softly said, "I read it, and then, as a joke, I found you out in the living room, and I said, 'It seems like you really were stalking me for a while. It's all a bit creepy.' But, Draco, I was joking. I didn't mean it."

"Creepy!" Draco said. "You called me creepy!"

"It was a joke! I loved this note! I thought it was so sweet!" She felt deflated, because she knew it was wrong at the time. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I knew it hurt your feelings at the time, because you grabbed it out of my hands, threw it in the rubbish bin, and told me it was all a joke, and that's why I took it out, and saved it. I loved it. It was sweet and sentimental. Please, forgive me? Please?"

He narrowed his gaze at her, pushed his shoulder into hers and said, "Oh, who are we kidding. It was all a bit creepy, considering I really had considered all of that before I'd even met you again at the Weasel's wedding. I was a bit obsessed, and a lovesick fool, but then again, I never pretended otherwise."

"That's true," she agreed. She pushed her shoulder into his this time and said, "You've always made it clear that you wanted to make me yours, and that you went to the wedding that weekend to do just that, and gee, Draco, how pathetic was I that I went frolicking around a wedding reception with you, marking off each hour like it was a date, and then making love to you that very first night, and marrying you the second day. You didn't hold a wand to my head. I did that on my own."

"True, you're as pathetic as I am," he said, laughing. "Remember hour five? That was a nice date."

"Actually, I don't remember hour five. Each hour has blended together as one long day and that's okay, but I do sometime regret that we didn't get to act out the things on this piece of parchment. I regret that we don't have a first date to look back on fondly."

"We do," he countered. "It's just our first date is also the anniversary or our wedding," he continued, with a chuckle.

"Which is when, again?" she asked seriously.

He pushed her off the bed and said, "I remember our bloody anniversary, Granger!" He leaned over and held out his hand to her. He pulled her up, and then pulled her onto his lap. "Listen, Muggle Muffin, I know it's very late, but how about this, we aren't on a time schedule, and we can sleep in late tomorrow, so who cares how late we're up tonight. Let's have our first date tonight. Right here, right now."

She pulled his wrist to her, and looked at his watch. "It's 11:03 at night!"

"I just explained why that shouldn't matter. Were you listening?"

"Well," she said slowly. "I actually want you to ask me out and everything, just like you said you would in your little note." She stood up, all excited. "I know, I know, I know!" She hopped up and down.

"What, what, what?" he mocked her, with a smirk.

"I've wanted to test this new spell I made up for the longest time! It works sort of like the Room of Requirement! I can charm the outer room to be just like the Room of Requirement, and it will recreate whatever we want or need!"

He regarded her for a moment and then said, "You've made a spell that can recreate one of the most complex pieces of magic ever known to the magical world? When have you done this? In your spare time or what?"

"Oh, I did it a long time ago, right out of school. I've just never told anyone about it, but I've used it before. It was helpful when I was recreating patients to work on during school," she said.

He stood up and said, "My stars, Granger, are you serious? No one has ever been able to recreate the magic that has gone into the Room of Requirement! No one, and people have tried for centuries! Are you serious?"

She looked affronted and said, "Yes, well, no."

He frowned.

"I mean, yes, but it may not be as perfect as the Room of Requirement. It's more like an illusion charm, than a room actually giving you what you need, but it's very lifelike, and everything seems very real. Do you want to use it?"

"We can make a mountain of money with this spell, Granger! Everyone will want to about it!" he shouted.

Her shoulders dropped and she looked disheartened. She said, "Is that all you care about? You have a mountain of money. Do you want to have our courtship that we never got to have, or not?"

He shook his head, because he felt fuzzy suddenly. "Okay, first things first, I have a lot of money, but more is always better, and yes, I will concede, I want to do the whole date thing, but then after this weekend is over, you have got to promise me we will do something with this spell that will make us rich and famous, agreed?"

She flipped his forehead with her middle finger. Then she said, "You go in the bedroom, and transfigure some clothes into your work clothes. I'll get the main room ready. First things first…you need to ask me out, and you said in your little note that you would have asked me out first either when I would have come to visit Harry at work, or you would have gotten hurt and you would have had to see me at St. Mungo's. Which would you prefer?"

"Well, since I don't want even a facsimile Potter nearby, make it be an examining room at St. Mungo's. I'll be right out." He pushed her out the door. Then he leaned out the doorway and said, "I can't wait to ask you out. I hope you say yes." Instead of transfigured clothing, he merely looked in his suitcase for black pants and a black shirt, since that is what he usually wore to work.

Hermione went about charming the room to the proper 'illusion'. He opened the door a crack, and said, "Granger, are you ready for me?"

He heard her say, "Is there a Draco Malfoy in the waiting room?" He stepped out of the bedroom, and entered what looked like an examination room at St. Mungo's.

* * *

**Draco's note to Hermione, regarding their perfect courtship:**

_**Hermione,**_

_**You said that you wondered if I would have asked her out if I hadn't come to Weasel and the Pug's wedding. I have thought about that often, and the answer is always, yes. I always thought that maybe one of the days when you had come to see Potter, I would have taken you aside, or waited until he left the room, or perhaps was killed in the line of duty, and I would ask to give you the news of his death, and you would have cried on my shoulder, and I would have asked you out for coffee, and that would have been our first date. **_

_**Or, maybe I would have purposely gotten hurt at work, and had to see you in your professional capacity at St. Mungo's, and I would have been endearing and sweet, and asked you on a date at that time.**_

_**I really always assumed that the first time you would have said 'no', so I'd go back for a recheck, or heaven forbid, get hurt again, and I'd be incredibly witty the second time, ask you out again, you would hem and haw, and then finally you would agree. Knowing you, you would probably cancel the first time, with some feeble excuse, and being the deft liar that I am, I would see right through the lie, but I wouldn't have given up.**_

_**To bribe you to go out with me, I would buy you flowers and some really rare, antique book, maybe a rare second edition of **__**Hogwarts a History**__** , or something, although something like that might cost a million galleons, but I figure you might be worth it.**_

_**After that, you would agree to go out with me. We would have a lovely first date and I would be the perfect gentleman, and I wouldn't even try to kiss you. It would be something really romantic, like dinner on the rooftop of my building, or perhaps a picnic on a blanket in the park. **_

_**The next day I would call you and ask to pop over. I wouldn't want you to get too terribly sick of me in the beginning, as if that would be a possibility, but still, I would only spend a few minutes, but I would make a lasting impression. I would make little excuses to touch you, but I still wouldn't kiss you. The chemistry between us would be palpable.**_

_**I would wait a few days more, but to let you know that I hadn't forgotten you, I would send you a little note or gift each day, nothing outrageous, nothing ostentatious or creepy.**_

_**The second date we would do something outside, an all day type of date. I would definitely hold your hand, all day perhaps. I would find little excuses to touch you again, like taking a leaf out of your hair, hitting your arm when you made a joke, (how did I know you would have no sense of humour?), and perhaps I would use the old, 'you have an eyelash on your cheek', and I would have to pretend to remove it. That one always works.**_

_**Our third date would be initiated by me, but you would offer to cook for us at your house. I would bring a nice bottle of wine. We would share our first kiss, and it would be glorious. Maybe you would make us a banana crème pie, and wouldn't it be funny if I plopped your bum right down in the center of the thing? We would spend all night on the sofa, talking about our hopes and dreams. We would apologize about our past. It would be well after midnight, and I would finally tell you that I had to go. You would walk me to the front door, and I would draw you into my arms and kiss you with incredible skill (ahem, ahem) and passion.**_

_**You would call me and initiate the fourth date. Knowing you, you would probably want to go to a show, a museum, or an art exhibition. I would find that incredibly mind-numbing, but I would go anywhere with you, no matter how boring. I would take you to my house afterwards, and we would have a heavy snogging session on my couch. I still would not push for sex. Not with you. I wouldn't risk losing you. I would wait…for you.**_

_**After that, I would improvise. After dating perhaps two weeks, I would invite you to go away for the weekend, maybe to a resort. If you said yes, you would be ready for sex. Our first time would be magnificent. There's no other way to describe the way it really was, because the first time was magnificent.**_

_**Following that, everything would be the same. We would lie together, after making love, the way we did after we really made love the first time. We would talk about marriage and a family, just as we really did. Then, the next morning, I would ask you to marry me, and you would say yes, just as we really did.**_

_**Granted, we might lengthen the engagement a bit longer than a few hours. We might even make it last a few months. You would plan the perfect wedding, I would concede to your every wish and whim, and then the rest would be as it really was and is.**_

_**The only difference my dear, Granger, is that we would have had to wait. I think I like how we did it better. **_

_**I love you! Draco.**_

* * *

_A/N: I think this little story has some renewed vigor to it. It was only going to be 20 chapters, but now I want to play around with them dating (Ha!) and so what if it takes me a few months to write, and I only update once a week. No one cares, right? I should make it last the whole weekend, the way the first two stories did._

_*A fan made a preview trailer for the story, "A Familiar Place" on Youtube. Visit my Author's page for the link._


	19. Chapter 19

**all characters belong to JKR**

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Chapter 19:**

Draco walked into the main room of the little cabin, and he was taken aback. Was he transported to St. Mungo's and not aware? Truly, this was miraculous magic on his wife's part. He walked through, touching things here and there, even as Hermione looked down at a clipboard, and then back into his face.

She had on green Healer robes, and her hair was tied back. She looked very pretty. In the entire time they had been married, he had never seen her at work. She smiled at him and said, "I figured it had to be you, when I saw the name, 'Draco Malfoy'. What seems to be the problem today, Malfoy?"

He was quiet for a moment, and then, getting into character, he said, "Oh, yes, well, there was a slight problem at work."

"Oh really?" she asked. She showed him to a little bed, and he sat down as she looked once more at his chart. "It says here that a suspect you were arresting fell and cut his head, and then you fainted when you saw all the blood." She looked up at him and smiled.

He held his smile at bay. He wanted to laugh, throttle her, and smack her bum all at once. How dare she pretend that THAT was his injury? Gee, a man faints at the sight of his wife's bloody hand once, and he never hears the end of it. He cocked his head to the side and said, "Yes, that's right, Healer Granger. I fainted. Like a little girl. Just fainted dead away. What do you say to that?"

She put the chart by his leg, and took out her wand. "I say that can be quite serious. A strong, able bodied man such as you, fainting that easily, could mean there is an underling cause for concern." She said a few spells with her wand, and then she placed her wand by his thigh, next to the clipboard, and both hands went up to his head.

"What are you doing?" he asked. His hands went to her wrists.

She pulled them down and away from him and said, "I'm examining your head. You may have hit it when you fell. Do you mind?"

"Oh," he said. "No, go ahead." She leaned forward, and her hands went back to his head. He knew this woman like he knew the back of his hand, yet her closeness, and her gentle touch, caused his heart to stir. Curious.

She was so gentle. Her fingertips skimmed through his hair, and then she looked in his eyes and said, "Your pupils seem equal and reactive to light."

"Is that a good thing?" he asked.

She laughed and said, "Yes, Malfoy, that's a good thing." She picked up the clipboard, and wrote a few things down. Then she said, "I think everything seems fine. Some people just have a strange reaction to blood. Sometimes it's the metallic smell that can make a person feel lightheaded."

"Not very masculine of me, though, to faint at the sight of blood, huh?" he asked.

She set her clipboard back by his leg and said, "Don't be silly. That has nothing to do with anything. Now, stand up."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, as he stood.

She laughed again and said, "Not yet. My examination isn't over, but if you want to leave, you shouldn't let me stop you."

"No, no, go on, examine me." He stood beside her and looked down. He smiled again, and she seemed to blush, which he found endearing, especially since they were really an old married couple.

"Now, stand on one foot, and hop up and down," she said.

"Really?" he asked back.

"No, I'm joking. I really wanted you to stand because you _are_ ready to leave," she said. She handed him the clipboard and said, "You just need to read these instructions on the next page, and then sign right at the bottom."

She pointed to a line on the next page, and handed him a quill. He started to sign, when he decided to read the instructions. What he read, was something curious. It read: _**"Draco, I gave myself a little amnesia charm. It's nothing lasting, and nothing dangerous, and should go away on its own soon. I wanted this to be real, for you at least. As far as I'm concern, this is really St. Mungo's, and you are really a patient, and we haven't seen each other in a long time. I guess I just wanted to know what would really have happened."**_

"_**Although I won't know you are my husband, when the spell is lifted, I'll remember everything. Also, the charm on the room is ruled by you. It will change to whatever you want it to change to, my darling. Have fun! I hope I go out with you. The charm on the room and on my memory will lift in two hours. Love, Hermione."**_

He couldn't believe his wonderfully, inventive wife! What a wonderful gift she was giving him. (They could really make a fortune with this.) He signed the form and then said, "What are you doing these days, Granger?"

She had her back to him, and she turned around and said, "Oh, nothing really. I suppose you've heard that Ron and I are no longer together? I mean, I assumed you had heard, since you work with him. In fact, he's planning on marrying Pansy in a week."

He sort of moaned, and said, "Sure, I've heard. Bully for you, Granger. That git was never good enough for you, I say."

"Oh, well, I'm not sure about that," she said, in a self-defacing way. "He's still a friend, though this whole thing took me off guard, you know."

"Of course it did," Draco said. He could see her vulnerability. He could feel her pain, in each word she spoke. How he wished he had been around the first time around to help her absorb some of that pain. He had been there, in a way.

They merely stood across from each other, she seemingly feeling slightly awkward and embarrassed, him feeling remorseful. She bit her bottom lip, and he found his hand traveling up to her face, in an all too familiar way. He caught himself in time, and pulled it away. "Do I need to come back for a recheck?" he asked.

"No, but if you feel lightheaded again, or if you find you have double vision, or a headache, please come back, and ask for me," she said. She held out her hand and said, "It was nice to see you again, Malfoy."

He looked at her hand, then at her eyes, and then at her hand again. He took it warmly into his and instead of pumping it up and down, he held it. He just held it. He watched her brown eyes dance, and he said, "What if I have a pain elsewhere? Shall I come back to see you specifically?"

She looked concerned, and while he still had her right hand, and she allowed it, she brought her left hand up to his shoulder. "Where is your pain, Draco?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. She called him Draco. See, he could have pursued her before the Weasel's wedding, and she would have been receptive. She called him Draco. He opened his eyes and said, "Here, the pain is right here." He dropped her right hand, only to pick it right back up, and he placed it on his chest, over his heart. He covered her hand with his.

"Your chest hurts?" she asked plaintively.

He shook his head no. "My heart, Hermione. My heart hurts. Can you heal it?"

She stared at him, and she removed her hand from under his and she backed away. Oh no, he scared her. He moved too fast. He was about to make it into a joke, when she said, "That seems to be catching. It must be a virus of some type, because I seem to be suffering from the same ailment." She turned away from him and added, "But I'm sure there's a cure out there for both of us, Malfoy. There has to be. I couldn't continue to get up in the morning, and carry on through the day, if there wasn't."

'Oh, dear Granger,' he thought. He wondered something. If his thoughts ruled the settings of these illusions, then what day was it supposed to be? Didn't she say earlier that Ron was getting married in a week? He asked, "Granger, are you going to the Weasel's wedding?"

"I was invited," she answered. "It's this coming weekend, but I'm not sure I'm going to go. I might stay home and have a pint of ice cream and some vodka." She tried to laugh.

He smiled to himself. This was all too perfect. Everything was as it should be. He said, "I was invited as well, but I think I'll forgo the unpleasant festivities. How about you and I go out and celebrate, instead."

She cocked her head to the side and said, "Celebrate? Now, whatever will we be celebrating, Malfoy?"

He stepped closer, and he went with his earlier instinct, and he touched her cheek. He said, "We would be celebrating the fact that neither the Weasel nor Pansy the Pug is marrying us, but of course. Come on, Granger. Let's give it a go. Have a nice little date."

"I don't know, Malfoy," she said. It was what he expected.

He said, "Tell you what, I'll just go, and I'll stop back by tomorrow, for a recheck, even if you think I don't need one, and you can give me your answer then."

He started toward 'the door' and she said, "Malfoy, are you asking me out for date?"

He smiled again, before he turned around. By the time he faced her, the smile was tucked safely inside, and he said, "Heavens no, Granger. Would I ask you out for a date?"

She looked crushed. He rectified that immediately by stepping two steps closer to her, taking her hand again, and while he played lightly with her fingers he continued with, "I'm asking you to give me the rest of your life." He raised her hand to his face, and stared deeply in her eyes, before he kissed her open palm. He cradled her hand in both of his, and then he let it drop lightly to her side. He nodded goodbye and said, "I'll be back tomorrow, for my recheck."

He walked back into the bedroom and he closed his eyes. Their love was truly meant to be. He took a deep breath, and then he decided quickly when he would meet her once more, so that he could ask her out again. He knew this time she would have to say yes.

He kept his eyes closed while he thought hard of the time and place. He opened his eyes, opened the door, and there she was, outside the great wizarding hospital, on a bench, eating a sack lunch, just as he had imagined. He walked out of the bedroom, and started past her.

She said, "Hey Malfoy, are you here for your recheck?" He stopped short, right after passing her bench.

He turned back around and said, "Yes, I am. What do you have there, lunch?"

"Yes, would you care to join me?" she asked.

He could hardly contain his glee.


	20. Chapter 20

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 20:**

Draco walked out of the bedroom, after having imagined Hermione sitting outside St. Mungo's, and low and behold, that was where she certainly was. He didn't care what Hermione said…they were going to market this spell somehow and make millions of galleons. He knew her brains would do them some good someday. He was glad she was on his side, and not against him.

He couldn't believe how real everything seemed. In reality, it was early fall, but here in his 'dream world' it was late spring, early summer. He looked around again, because EVERYTHING seemed so real. In reality it was after midnight, and it was raining again. In this little world, here in the living room of the cabin, it was sunny, and they were standing outside the large Hospital where she worked. He was beyond amazed.

Hermione was sitting on a bench, with a brown paper bag on her lap. He smiled as she took out a sandwich and gently unfolded the wrapper. She was such a funny little thing. He already knew what her sandwich was before she unwrapped it, because she always took the same sandwich to work everyday, turkey and cheese, with lettuce.

He took a step past her, acting nonchalant, and she looked up as he walked by. "Hey, Malfoy, are you here for your recheck?"

He stopped by her bench and said, "Yes, I am. What do you have there, lunch?"

"Yes, would you care to join me?" she asked. There was nothing he would like better.

He sat next to her and said, "What gourmet treat do you have there, Granger?"

"Just a turkey and cheese sandwich, very plain, and some crisps and an orange juice."

"And you mean to share some of your lunch with me? You're such a gourmand, and ever so generous," he joked. "I don't know when I've been offered finer fare."

"If you don't want any of my plain food, fine, starve," she said in a tiff. He laughed.

"You're a Healer. You wouldn't want me to starve to death, would you?" he asked. He took a crisp from her little bag and popped it in his mouth.

"I rather doubt you would die from starvation," she said back.

"Are you calling me fat?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow in the air.

"You're well nourished, is all I meant," she said back, taking a drink of her juice. He took the bottle from her, and took a long drink. She looked mesmerized by the fact that he would drink after her.

He handed the bottle back to her and said, "Well nourished sounds dangerously close to calling me fat, and I'm nowhere near fat, my dear personal Healer."

She sighed. "I'm not going to win this conversation no matter what, am I?"

He leaned forward and said, "No." Hermione handed him half of her sandwich, which he gladly took. If this was all 'magic' then how did this food taste so real? Seriously, they were going to be rich and famous. Well, they were already rich, but a bit more wouldn't hurt, and in truth, his wife was already slightly famous in their world, but more fame would be nice.

"Did you hear me, Malfoy?" she asked.

He blinked and said, "No, I'm sorry. I was daydreaming."

"You were woolgathering, as my granddad used to say," Hermione replied. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm going to be rich and famous some day," he said with a laugh.

She looked a bit shocked and said, "Well, good luck with that." She placed her trash in her little lunch sack and stood to put it in a rubbish bin. He took it from her hand and threw it toward the can, where it hit the side, then littered the sidewalk, by her feet.

She said, "You missed." She leaned down to pick it up, just as he stood up from the bench. He leaned down at the same time, and they bumped heads.

"Oww…" she cried out.

"Oh," he groaned.

Hermione held her forehead, but then reached over for Draco's head almost at the same moment that his hand went from the side of his own head to her head. His hand cupped the side of her head, and his thumb rubbed back and forth on her forehead. He asked, "Are you okay?" at the same moment that she said, "I'm so sorry, Malfoy, are you hurt?"

Then they both laughed. Her hand went away from his head and he lowered his from hers as well. She said, "My mother once said that you could tell if you were suited for a person by bumping heads with them."

"Oh?" he asked. His hand went back up to his own bump before he placed it on her head again. In an all too familiar fashion, he placed it gently on her head, his thumb rubbing the bump on her forehead. He asked, "How so?"

She didn't answer, however. She was taken aback by the familiarity in which he touched her. She was also slightly alarmed at the tingling feeling that began deep in the pit of her stomach, and traveled throughout her body. This was Draco Malfoy. She wasn't supposed to feel this type of thing with him.

She moved back slightly. He realized his error. To him, he was touching his wife. In this little 'altered reality' she was someone he had went to school with, seen once or twice since, and dreamed about often, so no wonder she was stunned.

She went back to the bench and picked up a book she left there, as well as her purse. She said, "If you would follow me inside, Malfoy, I'll give you a recheck exam, and then you can be on your way."

She walked inside, and down a long hallway. He followed closely behind. If he wasn't already married to her, he might have been worried that he had ruined everything, because she was acting quiet and strange. He knew her well enough to know that meant that her 'mind' was on overdrive, and that she was thinking a bit too hard. She was thinking about the way he touched her. He wished he knew if she was thinking about it fondly, or with repulsion.

"Sit down." She pointed toward a table after they enter a small room. She shut the door.

He walked in but remained standing. She placed her things in a locker and turned back to him and said, "On the table, Malfoy."

"No," he said. "Tell me how bumping heads can tell if you're suited for another person."

She looked away, then toward him. She stepped closer, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. She said, "It's nothing really. Don't you want your recheck so you can be on your way? It's Friday night. I bet you have a date."

"I might," he said. He leaned against the table and said, "Tell me, and then examine me."

She walked nearer and said, "It's silly really, but she once said that if you bumped heads early in a relationship, or even before a real relationship began, and if, oh, never mind, it's so silly. I wish I hadn't said anything, because it's really ridiculous."

He smirked and said, "Now you simply have to tell me. You've built it up to be really good, by saying how stupid it is."

"I said silly, not stupid!" Her hands went to her hips.

"Fine, just tell me," he said, annoyed.

"No, really, let's do your examination."

"Tell me, or there will be no exam," he said seriously.

She leaned against the table, next to him. His hip was right next to hers, and he knew that it unnerved her, how close they were, because she began to blush. He felt overwhelmed by his attraction for her, and he wanted to touch her, but instead he folded his arms across his chest and bumped his elbow into hers. "Come on, you know you want to tell me."

"Okay," she began, "she said that if a couple bumped heads, and then showed more concern for the other person, than for their own injury, that meant that they were meant for each other." She started to stand away from the exam table, but he grabbed her elbow, pulling her back.

He wanted to kiss her. He couldn't but he wanted to so badly. He kept his hand on her arm and asked, "Did you mother make this statement from personal experience?"

"No, I don't think my mum and dad bumped heads early in their relationship. They did fall in love quickly, though." She moved away from him. His hand dropped. She stood in front of him and pulled out her wand. She said a few spells and then said, "You're fine. The exam's over and you're good as new."

"Better than new," he said with a sardonic grin.

"Fine, better than new."

She began to step away again, but once again, he reached out for her. He held her wrist and asked, "Tell me about your parents. How long did they know each other before they fell in love?"

She smiled and sat next to him again. He sat back on the table, and so did she. Hermione bent one leg under her and turned slightly so she was facing him. "Well, they met at a New Year's Eve party, and my mum told her best friend to look at the man at the end of the table. She then told her friend that she was going to marry that man some day. The funny thing was, my dad, who was very handsome and suave, told his best mate the very same thing about my mum that night."

"They barely spoke to each other that night, because they both had dates, but at the end of the evening, when midnight came, and everyone was kissing everyone, to welcome the New Year, he pulled my mum toward him, and kissed her, and they both said that was the instant that they fell in love."

He already had heard this story, but to hear her tell it, with such enthusiasm, warmed his heart. "So it only took a kiss for them, not a head bump," Draco asked.

"I suppose. They went out a few nights later, and by February 14th, he asked her to marry him, and by March 17th, they were wed," Hermione said. "Very romantic stuff, don't you agree?"

"Do you believe people can fall in love so fast, Granger?" He scoot to the edge of the table and stood up. He stood in front of her. She was still sitting on the table.

"I think so. I know so. They're still together, and still in love. Love just happens, and who knows when or why. I believe someone can fall in love in an instant, because my parents are living proof." She looked down suddenly. She felt embarrassed, and Draco knew it because she was blushing again.

"When we bumped heads, my hand went to your head, and your hand went to mine. We showed concern for the other person first, Granger…err, Hermione," he said softly. She looked up at him. She began to breathe hard.

She scooted forward, and placed her hand on his chest to push him away, saying, "I need to get back to work. Let me off the table."

He only moved back one step, and he placed his hand over hers, to trap it on his chest. She hopped down from the table, and she was right in front of him, her hand trapped. He removed his hand from hers, but hers stayed on his chest. He placed his hand back on her head and said, "Maybe you need an exam. I might have hit your head harder than you think. My head is very hard, I'll have you know."

"Oh, I know it is," she said with a smile.

His hand moved from the side of her head, to her soft hair, and then it curled around to her neck, and the back of her scalp. His thumb rubbed the back of her head softly. His other hand went to her cheek. He said, "Let me do a test, to see if you're alright."

"Malfoy?" she questioned, but she got no further. Her mouth was slightly open from saying his name, so when he moved forward, and his head bent to kiss her, she seemed open and pliant. She froze in shock for a moment, but then as his lips moved slightly on top of hers, she almost melted, and his hand that was on her cheek went to her back, to steady her.

The kiss lasted mere seconds. He didn't deepen it, but he kissed her with sweetness and on his part, love. He moved away, and she opened her eyes. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips wet and inviting. He wanted to kiss them again, but he stepped away.

He turned from her and opened the door, before facing her again. She was leaning back against the exam table, one hand holding the table, one hand on her lips. He said, "You passed the test with flying colours, Granger. What time do you get off work?"

She still looked slightly stunned, but she answered. "Five-thirty, why?"

"I'll meet you right outside, at the same bench where you ate lunch, at five-thirty." He turned and walked out the door.

She leaned out the door and called after him. "But why?"

He turned back, and while walking backwards down the hall, and with a large smile on his face, he said, "Because we have a date tonight. Till then, Granger."


	21. Chapter 21

**all characters belong to JKR**

* * *

_A/N:__ For those who wondered about the story of how Hermione's parents met from the last chapter, I used the same story in the first "An Unlikely Pair" story, and it is the true story of how my parents met and married, and they were married 35 years, until my mother died of cancer. Love at first sight is possible._

* * *

**Chapter 21:**

Draco didn't know why he was nervous. This was his wife, for goodness sakes. He had a date with his wife. But here he was, pacing outside the 'fake' St. Mungo's, waiting for Hermione to come out so they could go on their date, and he was nervous. And the reason he was nervous was because she was late.

It was thirty-five minutes after five. She got off work at five o'clock. She wasn't coming. He had always predicted that she might not show up the first time he asked her out, and he wasn't sure why he thought that, but he did, and now it was coming true. She stood him up. Actually, he knew her parents had raised her with a modicum of manners, so he always assumed she would at least have the courtesy to call and cancel, but that was another story.

Did this mean that if they had, had a traditional meeting that they might not have dated and fallen in love? Should he go to her cottage and see why she didn't show? He knew she lived at Red Rose Cottage during this time of her life, but if he just showed up there, it might scare her, because in reality, the Draco Malfoy of this time shouldn't know where she lived.

He had a boutique of white and yellow daisies in his hand. He felt stupid holding flowers, even if this wasn't real. There were still fake people staring at him. He would go back into the bedroom and think of another scenario. Perhaps he would imagine her coming to his office to see Potter. He would act as if he had forgotten about the date as well, and see what happened from there.

Perhaps this altered reality she created wasn't all it was cracked up to be, because it should give him what he wanted, not what he feared. They weren't going to make a lot of money after all. He threw the daisies on the ground and turned to walk away.

He had just started down the street when he heard, "Littering is a crime, Malfoy."

He turned around. She was there, with the daisies in her hand. She still had on her green Healer robes, and she looked tired and weary. He walked toward her and she said, "Did you think I stood you up?"

"Yes," he answered plainly.

"There was an emergency. A little boy had a very bad broom accident. It was touch and go for a moment, but he's going to be okay," she explained.

He had never really thought about what his wife did for a living before. She saved people's lives. She was a hero when they were young, and she still was. He smiled. He said, "I'm proud of you." He knew she wouldn't understand that statement, and it would sound odd, but he wanted to say it.

"Thank you, Malfoy." She looked confused but she accepted his statement without question. She looked down at her robes and said, "I look a sight. Listen, can we reschedule for another time, that is, if you still want to go out with me?" She said that last part…_'if you still want to go out with me'_ so fast that it almost sounded like one word. She was also blushing, which he found incredibly endearing.

"To be truthful," he began, "I always assumed you would cancel the first time I asked you out."

"You thought about what would happen if you asked me out before?" she asked. "I thought asking me out was a spur of the moment type of thing."

"No, I've been planning it," he said, adding 'for years' in his head. "I can see you're tired. Really, if you'd rather, we can just go back to your cottage and have a bite to eat and watch a movie."

"How do you know I live in a cottage?" she asked.

She always picked up on the little things. He should have known that. He said, "Potter mentioned it. He said you inherited it from your aunt."

"Yes, I love it. I never want to leave it. I want to raise my family there and grow old and grey there, someday," she said, smiling.

That made him somewhat sad. They had only lived there a few short months after they married, and then he insisted that they move to a bigger house, since she didn't want to move to the Manor. She wanted to keep the cottage, but he goaded her into selling it. It was so secluded, far away from everything and everyone, that he told her it was stupid, (yes, he told her it was stupid) to keep it. Now he felt badly that she sold it, knowing that she wanted to live there forever. She really did make a lot of concessions for their marriage, more than he had.

He pointed toward the bench where they sat earlier. She sat, followed by him. She placed the daisies on the seat beside her. He said, "Tell me about your cottage, Hermione."

She smiled suddenly, and her eyes brightened, and the weariness seemed to fade away. She said, "My great-aunt Rose lived there, hence why I named it Red Rose Cottage, plus it has red rose bushes all around it. I inherited when I was only twenty, and I moved in right after the war. I needed some solitude. I spent so much time on the run, and with other people, that I needed something that was just mine. I needed something for me."

"It only has four main rooms, a living room, a large kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bath, but there's a basement, and it has one large room in it, which I use for books. There's a small detached shed, that isn't even large enough for one car, and it has a large porch that starts in the front, and goes all the way around the house on one side, to the back."

"It has red, clapboard shingle siding, and a grey, slate roof, and a large brick fireplace, and hardwood floors, and a wrought-iron fence all around it, and pine cupboards in the kitchen, and…" before she could say anymore he placed his index finger on her lips.

"Why don't you just take me there, and show it to me?" he asked.

She looked discomforted and said, "Oh, I don't know."

"Oh," he said quietly. Maybe she really didn't want to go out with him. He asked, "Is it that you don't want to go out with me? Just tell me. Are you not over Weasel?"

"No," she said sharply.

He looked taken aback.

"No, I mean, yes, I mean," she began to laugh. "Wait, it's not that I don't want to go out with you, because I actually do, as for the other part of the question, I don't know if I'm over Ron. We were together for many years, since we were kids. A love like that doesn't die easily." She looked down at her lap. "He moved into the cottage just last year, and I really thought that would finally lead to marriage, but it didn't. It only led to me having to hire a housekeeper because he was so messy." She looked up and smiled.

He laughed and asked hopefully, "That means you do want to go out with me?" He knew in reality, even if this Granger refused to date him, he could wake up tomorrow and she would still be his wife, but it was so very important to him to know that it would have happen anyway. There was always something about their hurried romance and marriage that bothered him. In a way, he always felt that she did it all under duress, and just because Ron married Pansy that day. He felt he rushed her into it…forced her…coerced her. He had to be one hundred percent certain that this was something she would have done on her own.

He didn't set out this evening with this agenda, but this was his agenda now. If their marriage was to continue, and if he was to be certain that they were meant to be, he had to know that she would have picked him, above all others, and above all things, on her own, and in her own time.

He had to be certain that she would have married him anyway.

"Listen," he said, because she still hadn't answered his question about whether of not she really wanted to go out with him, and because the silence between them was bordering or awkward, "I'll let you go home tonight, and let you think about things. If you decide you want to go out with me, you come see me tomorrow at work. We'll go out to lunch or something. I won't press you anymore. I want it to be something you want. I want it to be your decision."

She looked confused and she said, "Well, of course it would be my decision, and I really would like to go out with you." She looked down again, then back up and added, "But how bizarre is that? We're such an unlikely pair."

"Strange turn of a phrase," he said with the largest smile. He couldn't even recall which of them originally coined that phrase, but they mentioned it many times that first weekend, and again, many times throughout their first year of marriage.

"We are, Malfoy," she said. She turned on the bench so that she was facing him. She folded her legs underneath her. He folded his left leg over his right, and turned his upper body to face her, too.

"Do tell," he said, with a sardonic grin. His arm was on the back of the bench, and his thumb was touching her shoulder. He let it stay there, and he even rubbed it back and forth, and she didn't protest.

"You're a pureblood, I'm a Muggle born, and you're rich and so dashing and all, and I'm middle class and sort of plain and boring."

He laughed aloud, hard and long. "Plain? Boring? Hermione Granger? Have you ever met yourself?"

She hit his arm. "You know what I mean."

"No, I really don't," he said back. "So, we're different. We probably like different foods, different artwork, and different activities. We've come from different backgrounds, and I'm sure our parents are completely different. I grew up pampered and spoiled and a bigot and a pompous git, and you grew up with an over-inflated view of yourself," (she hit his arm again), "but so what?"

"You're right, but still, opposites don't always attract," she said. "Sometimes differences are hard to overcome."

"I'm just talking a date here, Granger. I'm not talking marriage or kids, or the rest of our lives," he said. And again, in his head, he added one word: 'yet'.

"I need to change."

"Oh, you're not that bad. I can tolerate the overbearing side of you," he joked.

"I meant my clothing, Malfoy!" she yelped.

"Oh, okay." He played dumb. "Does that mean I get to escort you back to your cottage after all?"

"Fine," she conceded. "We'll go back to my house, and I can cook for us there, okay? I might not have much food. We might have to go to the market, is that a plan?"

"I would go anywhere with you," he said. He stood up and offered her his arm. She stood up and hooked her arm through his.

"Anywhere?" she asked with a lilting voice.

"Anywhere," he confirmed. "If you asked me to go to an old, ugly, fishing cabin in the middle of nowhere, that only had one big room, one small bedroom, a tiny galley kitchen and a bathroom no bigger than me, I'd probably go, even if it rained the entire time we were there."

She laughed as she placed her other hand on his arm. "Red Rose Cottage is nicer than that, but I think you just described my dad's little cabin."

"Huh, how about that," he said.

Draco wasn't sure how his fantasy would change from the front of St. Mungo's to her little cottage, but he stopped at the curb, near the end of the block, and he turned to her, as he pondered that very thing. She looked up at him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"How will we get there?" he asked.

"We could apparate," she suggested. He didn't know if they could apparate in a fantasy, but he thought it was rather unnecessary. He knew if he thought of it hard enough, it would appear.

Therefore, he said, "You have something on your eyelid. Close your eyes." She closed her eyes, he closed his, he leaned forward, and brushed his lips next to hers softly, even as he thought clearly of her cottage, and imagined it exactly as it was the first day he saw it, right after their honeymoon.

When they both opened their eyes, they were on the large front porch of Red Rose Cottage. He looked all around and said, "Damn, we _are_ going to make a fortune."

"Why, because we apparated to my cottage?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yes, that's it exactly," he said with a laugh. "That's it."

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_Be sure to go to my author's page and vote for what my next story will be! (After my vampire/veela fic "A Day and A Night" that is). Thanks!_


	22. Chapter 22

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 22:**

Draco looked around the porch of Red Rose cottage, and it was if he was seeing it for the first time. She had an arbor with pink roses climbing up it on one side of the porch; she had wind chimes hanging from a hook on the other side. She had a large white-wicker chair in the corner, which had an old quilt and a pillow with a fringe. He wasn't sure he had ever really noticed any of these things before. Every time he had been here in the past, he would apparate directly into the house, forgetting about the porch entirely. What a shame. This would have been a nice place to sit with her on a summer night. They could have sat together in that chair.

"Malfoy?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

He knew he was being quiet and it must appear to her that he was acting strangely, so he said, "I felt slightly dizzy from the apparation."

She looked concerned and said, "Maybe you aren't recovered from your previous head injury, although you should be. We should get inside." She turned to the door, and he continued to look around the porch.

There was an old butter churn, for decorative purposes, next to the chair. There was a weathered, worn, old green, painted bench under the front bay windows. "This is very nice and homey," he declared.

"Are you joking with me?" she asked, suspiciously.

"No, it is," he said. He touched a hanging basket, which had petunias in it, and then said, "Seriously."

"I would think you'd modern style," she said. "Most people don't like English country. Ron used to say that he grew up with old, battered things, and he never knew why I wanted things to look old and shabby." She shrugged as she said a spell at the front door and it opened.

He followed her inside and said, "I do like modern things, but I like this, too." He remembered when he first moved in here, he made fun of her things, saying things similar to what she had said that Weasley had said. He even once asked her if her furniture were rejects from the Burrow. He regretted it now.

The inside looked much the same as it did when they first moved in, except there were more books, more family pictures, and more clutter than he remembered, if that was possible.

"This room is crammed to the hilt," he remarked.

She laughed as she crossed the large living room to walk to the kitchen. "I'm painting my extra bedroom, so everything from there is in here." He followed her to the kitchen. She placed a copper kettle on the stovetop to warm water for tea. "Sit down," she said, pointing toward a chair.

"I'd rather stand," he said.

"Do my chairs have dust on them?" she asked.

"What?" He looked around. He laughed and said, "No, I meant, I want to help you cook or something. I don't want to just watch."

She looked confused. "You mean to help?" He nodded. "You're a contradiction, Mr. Malfoy," she declared. "Well, okay, I thought I'd make us eggs, because as I said, I don't have much food in the house. How do you like your eggs?"

He remembered how terrible the egg episode went right after their marriage, when she went to make him eggs benedict, even though he had told her that eggs florentine was his favorite. He knew that eggs florentine was a bit difficult, and he didn't like poached eggs, so eggs benedict were out. She stood in front of him, two eggs in one hand, two eggs in another, and she waited.

"However you want to make them is fine with me," he finally said.

She eyed him suspiciously again and said, "Who are you?" She placed the eggs on the counter. She walked up to him and felt his head. "No fever."

She dropped her hand from his head and proceeded to mix the eggs with milk in a large mixing bowl. He didn't know what to do or say. He merely stood there. He finally said, "I think I would like living in a place like this. It's small and comfortable."

She whipped around and asked, "Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I just like it here. I don't think you should ever leave. It suits you. You shouldn't let anyone talk you out of moving from here, no matter what. You love it here, and if someone loves you, they should love it here, too," he said seriously. "If I loved someone like you, I would love living here."

"You're acting strange, so stop it!" she snapped as she turned to him.

He had to laugh again, because he realized that to this Hermione, and maybe even to his own Hermione, he was acting strangely. Playfully he placed his arms around her waist. He should remember this was their 'first date', but he covered by saying, "I do feel a bit dizzy, perhaps I should hold onto you for support. It must be a side effect from hitting my head the other day."

"And the personality change?" she asked. She placed her hands on his chest, but she didn't push him away.

Now he frowned. "My personality hasn't changed."

"You're being so nice and agreeable and you aren't making fun of me, or teasing me, or making rude comments. You're being kind and warm and it's rather disconcerting," she said.

He dropped his arms from around her waist. He took a step away and turned from her. She was right…his caustic wit, his slightly menacing and lecherous pursuit of her that first time at the Burrow was what ultimately won her over. If he was suddenly kind, agreeable, and endearing to her, she might reject him this time.

He walked over to the table and sat down. He crossed his legs and looked down at the floor. He couldn't help himself. He already loved this woman, and he realized that there were times when he was less than kind to her, and he wanted to change all of that. He wanted to consider her feelings, he wanted to make her comfortable, he wanted to remember their first anniversary. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to abide by every one of their nine commandments.

He wanted to be a better husband.

He felt her hand on his shoulder. "Draco, what's wrong?"

"This is wrong," he said, looking up at her.

"Did I say something to upset you? What do you mean when you say that this is wrong?" she asked. She removed her hand.

He stood up. She took a partial step back, but he put his arm around her again, resting his hand on her back. He took a slight step forward and said, "I love you." He didn't care if it made sense to this Hermione, because he needed to say that right now, more than he needed air to breath.

He looked down into her brown eyes. She was shaking slightly. His free hand came up to stroke her cheek. His voice lowered to a mere whisper and he said, "I hope you believe in love at first sight, because I plan to marry you someday."

"Good, because I do believe in love at first sight, and I fell in love with you the moment you bumped your head into mine, and I decided right then that I wanted to marry you, too," she said softly. She reached a hesitant hand up to his jaw, and traced it lightly with her fingertips. "I would marry you tomorrow if you asked me."

He smiled. He could barely contain his joy. They were meant to be. Damn everyone who ever thought different. No matter what, they would have found each other, fallen in love in just one day, and married just as quickly. They were _no longer an unlikely pair_. He couldn't have been happier.

The air between them swirled with emotion and energy. He bent his head and kissed her, as if it were the first time, instead one of a thousand times. His lips moved with expertise over her mouth, tasting, devouring, enjoying, exploring. Her hands came up to his head, her fingers in his hair. He pushed her closer. His lips moved across her face to her jaw, down her neck.

She said his name, then she said, "I do love you."

His lips brushed against her ear and he said, "I know what our last commandment should be. It should be to fall in love with your spouse everyday, as if each day was the first day, and each day was the last day."

She didn't respond. Instead, she cupped his face, stopping his mouth from its trek along her neck, and she stared into his eyes. She said, "What? What commandment?"

He laughed and said, "Nothing."

Then he hugged her to him, kissed her hair, closed his eyes, and imagined that he was back in the little cabin, in the early hours after midnight, in the middle of another thunderstorm, holding his wife of fourteen months in his arms.

He opened his eyes and sighed. He was back at the cabin. He looked down at the woman in his arms and he said, "Do you remember everything that happened?"

She nodded, but then for some reason, she started to cry. He looked confused, brushed the tear from her face, and said, "What's wrong?"

"I feel like the wonder of this weekend is over if we come up with our last commandment," she said. "If we finish the commandments, we have to leave."

"No, it's not over yet. We still have tomorrow, well, really today, and then of course, the rest of our lives," he said.

"You are so sappy sometimes," she said. "Seriously, what's happened to you? Where's the Draco Malfoy I learned to love because I used to hate?"

He threw his hands up in the air and said, "I can't win for losing! I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't." Hermione laughed at him and sat down on the bench by the table.

He stood over her and said, "We still have a few hours before sunrise. Should we get some sleep?"

"I really want some eggs," she said with a laugh.

"Fine, but you cook them. If I offer to help you'll call me nice or kind, and Merlin knows I can't live with a reputation like that." He followed her into the kitchen and then he said, "We really are going to be rich with your little fantasy spell, Granger. Think of the possibilities! People could live out their every dream and fantasy, without repercussions."

"We aren't using my spell for evil, Malfoy," Hermione said. She got a skillet out of the cupboard and said, "I rather see it as a tool for students in Healer training, or for students in Auror training, or even Hogwarts students. I don't intend to make money from it."

"No!" he whined. "We must make money from it! What good is it if we don't? Who gives a flying fig for Healers, Aurors and students?"

She turned to look at him and then she smiled and said, "Well it's good to at least have my evil, self-centered, money hungry husband's back."

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_A/N: I've decided this will have eight more chapters! Thanks for following this little tale!_


	23. Chapter 23

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 23:**

Hermione could barely keep her eyes open as she washed the skillet in which she had made the eggs. They had both eaten, and now they were both tired. "What time is it, Draco?" she asked.

He walked into the small kitchen only a few minutes before and he said, "Why is it you never wear a watch, and you also fail to notice any clocks that happen to be in the room? There's a clock on the stove, wifey. I'm not your personal alarm clock."

She was too tired to argue with him, and she knew that he was tired too, because he became more snappish and, dare she think it, 'spoiled', the more tired he became. She dried the skillet and noticed that it was half past three in the morning. She grabbed the front of his t-shirt, and dragged him into the bedroom. She pushed him on the bed, and tumbled down after him. "I have to get some sleep," she said.

He kicked off his shoes, and kicked down the covers until they were both under the blankets. He pulled her into his arms and said, "It was worth staying up though, don't you think, to find out that we would have fallen in love and married no matter what?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"You don't sound convinced," he said with a yawn.

"I am. I love you, goodnight." She moved on her elbow to kiss his cheek, and then she tucked her body into the side of his, placed her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, and she closed her eyes.

"I love you, Hermione," he answered. She was right where she belonged, in his opinion.

It didn't take long for him to nod off to sleep. She waited for it, and when she was convinced he was truly asleep, she sat up. Something had been bothering her, ever since his little experiment with her fantasy spell. True, to his mindset, they were bound to fall in love, no matter what, but Hermione still wasn't as sure as he was. She wondered if it was all to perfect, his experiment, because after all it took place around the same time as when they really fell in love. Would they have fallen in love a year later? Would they have fallen in love a year earlier, when she was still with Ron?

How about right after school? Would he have given her a second glance, and she him, if they were only a year or two out of school? She looked at him in the moonlight, and her heart felt so full of love for him, but she still felt as if everything was too neat and tidy. His fears had been waylaid, but hers had not. She still needed to be convinced, one last time, that this was real, and lasting.

She had an idea, and since she was suddenly no longer tired, she felt it was the perfect time to find out finally if their love was meant to be, and if it would last. She would conduct her own little experiments, and she would do one years before he claimed to have become infatuated with her and one more, years later.

He would never need to know that she was using the spell. His participation was only necessary in the sense that she needed his body. He could stay asleep. He would wake up in the morning and recall everything, but maybe he would think he had just been dreaming.

She thought for a moment about which moment she wanted to create first, and decided that she would pick a time, just a few years out of school. She wanted to see if he would have even given her the 'time of day' back then. To be fair, she probably wouldn't have given him the time of day back then either, so she altered her spell a bit, to make it more realistic, so that her memories of their marriage would be temporarily lifted. Essentially, during the next hour or so, they would truly be Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, former classmates from Hogwarts, who just happened to find themselves thrown together. As a safeguard, she made it so that the spell stopped if either came to danger, and so that it wouldn't last more than an hour.

She leaned down, kissed his cheek as he slept, and said, "Time to be certain, once and for all, Draco." She cast the spell and they were both transported back in time.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Hermione Granger sat in a coffee shop in Muggle London, waiting to meet Harry Potter for lunch. Harry and Ron had been in Auror training for three years, they were set to graduate that spring, and she was meeting Harry so that he could help her plan a surprise graduation party for Ron. She wanted to throw a party just for him, to make him feel special. She also hoped that perhaps he might ask her to marry him during the party.

She still had two more years of schooling before she would be a fully qualified Healer, and she knew that they should wait until they were more settled with jobs, both of them out of school and that they should have some money in the bank before marriage, but she felt ready.

Ron once told her he wouldn't ask her to marry him until she was ready for children, and that was the one area where she wasn't ready to concede, not yet. She wanted children, but not for many more years. She hoped Ron would change his mind.

She waited for Harry, and even though she didn't have on a watch, she just knew he was late. She hardly ever wore watches except at work. A man walked by her table and she said, "Excuse me, Sir, do you have the time?"

He glanced at his watch, said, "A quarter to one," without glancing at her, and he started to walk away.

"Draco Malfoy?" she asked.

He stopped, turned, and looked at her, shocked. "Yes?" Then, he realized who it was. "Hermione Granger?"

She smiled. She couldn't help it. No, they had never been friends, and she hadn't seen him since the battle of Hogwarts, but still, here was a 'somewhat' friendly face, in the middle of Muggle London, in a busy coffee shop, so she smiled.

He smiled back. "Hello, Granger," he said, before she could confirm his question as to who she was.

"Hello, Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"Most people come to a coffee shop for coffee, Granger," he said dryly. "I know you've led a sheltered life, and it pains me to be the one to tell you this, but it's so."

"Funny," she said sarcastically. "I meant in Muggle London."

"Oh, is this Muggle London?" He looked around. "I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

She didn't remember him ever being so droll before. "It's nice to see you again," she said.

"You, too. What are you doing?" He was suddenly bumped from behind, and he stumbled toward her table. He braced his hand on her shoulder, his body pressed briefly into her arm, to keep from falling. That brief encounter, his hand on her shoulder, caused them both to stare deeply in each other's eyes. She suddenly felt flushed. He seemed bothered about something as well. He said, "Excuse me." Finally, he removed his hand from her shoulder, and stepped away.

"Have a seat for moment," she offered. He sat opposite her and she added, "I'm waiting for Harry."

He stood up as suddenly as he had sat down. "That's my cue to leave," he said seriously.

"Really, Malfoy," she said, scolding him. "I thought Harry once said that you and he had decided to let bygones be bygones."

"I think what he meant was that we once talked, right after I started my Auror training, and we thought for the sake of our instructors, we wouldn't try to kill each other until we were both out of school. I still have two years left, damn it," he muttered. "Then we will be free to hate each, try to kill each other, and cause general mayhem to each other again."

She laughed. He raised one eyebrow. He sat back down. "Are you in school? Do you have a job somewhere?"

"I'm in school. I'm training to be a Healer," she said.

"Bloody good show, Granger. If I ever am injured when I become an Auror, I'll seek you out. Are you still with ginger-weasel?" He motioned to the waitress, pointed to Hermione's coffee, and nodded that he would like some, too.

"Yes, we're still together," she confirmed. "If you're in Auror school with Harry and Ron, why aren't you graduating?"

"I started two years later than them." He thanked the waitress when she brought his coffee and said, "I waited until all the business with my parents was through to figure out what I wanted to do. Then I figured out that what I wanted to do was to give my father a coronary, so I'm becoming an Auror." He gave her a weak smile.

She merely nodded and smiled back. She figured he meant he waited until his parents' trials and sentencing to prison. She wouldn't ask any more on that subject. She said, "The time now, please?"

"Well, you're a smart one, Granger, so try to figure that out, why don't you. I told you the time about five minutes ago, so that would make it what?" he asked dryly.

"That would make Harry Potter a dead man, because he has seemed to have stood me up," she huffed. "I was supposed to meet him to discuss Ron's graduation party, but he was to be here almost an hour ago, around noon, stupid bugger."

He laughed aloud. "I've never heard Hermione Granger use such scandalous language before," he huffed. "Are you really the Hermione Granger I went to school with?"

"The one and the same, the one you hated all your life, and I'm not immune to such language," she said, finishing her coffee.

"Maybe I should have said that I've just never heard you speak that way in front of me," he amended.

"Or about you, because usually that's when such words crossed my lips, when I was speaking about you," she said acerbically. She tried to look serious, but she had a hard time keeping her smile at bay.

He pointed at her and said, "Rotten liar, you are." He hadn't recalled Hermione being so witty and charming. She was more than that, she was engaging and dare he think it, pretty?

"Are there wedding bells in your near future, Granger?" he asked. He suddenly felt embarrassed for asking that. Everyone knew that she and Weasel were going to marry someday. Hell, most people knew it before they realized it! He hated the thought of someone like her being wasted on someone as dense and moronic as the youngest male Weasley, but it couldn't be helped.

"I don't think Ron wants to marry me," she said seriously. Then she regretted it. He looked almost pleased by her answer, which made her feel chagrined, but not at him, at Ron. "What I meant was that he wants a wife who will stay at home, raise the children, all that sweet stuff, but I didn't go to school for years and years to not have a career. Otherwise, I'd marry him tomorrow."

He wanted to say, "Yuck" right about now, but he kept it to himself. "Of course," he said instead, although he didn't know why he said it. "You do want children someday, though I suppose, being an only child and all."

"How do you know that I'm an only child?" she asked.

He laughed and said, "I've known you for years and years. Give me a little credit. I know more about you than just that you're a Muggle-born and that your best friends were the chosen one and the witless wonder."

She was going to ask him to stop saying disparaging remarks about Ron, but she found she didn't mind. Why didn't she mind? "Tell me something else about me that I wouldn't imagine you would know," she urged.

"Your favourite colour is green," he said.

"No it's not," she said back, with a funny look on her face.

"Then I know nothing about you," he said, adding in his mind, 'dammit all to hell.' He would have to remedy that. He wanted to know absolutely everything there was to know about her, and immediately.

Hermione said, "That's a pity, really. We spent too much time in school hating each other, because blood prejudices built up a wall of hatred around us, and we never got a chance to climb over that wall to find out more about the other." She stood up and said, "More's the pity." She started to put down some money to pay her bill, but he reached for her hand.

He only meant to tell her that he would pay her bill. Instead, he found himself holding her hand. She sat back down. He kept her hand in his, turned it around to look at the palm, and he said, "Yes, it's a crying shame, Granger." He kept her hand. She could barely breathe. The air between them was thick with an undercurrent that she would be hard-pressed to describe. "I do know one thing about you that you may not know that I know."

She could barely breathe, let alone speak, because he was still holding her hand, this time, tightly between both of his. She finally managed to squeak out, "What's that, Malfoy?"

"You are never going to marry Ron Weasley." He dropped her hand as soon as he said it, and he stood from the table. He threw money deliberately on the top and she watched him in shock as he turned to leave. Her eyes followed him, watching his back, as he made his way to the door. When he left the building, the sound of the little bell over the door rang above the noise of the crowd, and she suddenly stood and ran after him.

She saw him near a crosswalk. She ran up to him, grabbed his arm, and said, "Why would you say something like that, Malfoy?"

He smiled again, a slow, purposeful smile, and he looked at her hand on his arm. He leaned forward, cupped her cheek, and kissed her other cheek softly. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace, right on the street, unaware of the stares of others as they past by, and he said in her ear, "Because you're going to marry me someday."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Hermione gasped as she sat up in bed. She looked over at her sleeping husband. She leaned close to him...yes he was sleeping. She wanted to scream in delight. Instead, she hugged herself, happy in the knowledge that no matter what, or when, they would have fallen in love in an instant, just as they did that day at the Burrow. Now, she had to see if it would have happened years later, even though she was tempted not to tempt fate, still, it wouldn't hurt to be double certain, would it.

She thought for a moment, and decided that she would pose a scenario in her mind where she never went to Ron's wedding, and that she had left their world for a while, because that was what she really almost did. She decided the last 'fantasy' would take place five years after Ron's wedding, in the future. She looked once more at her sleeping husband, and silently said the incantation for the altered reality spell one last time.

**

* * *

**

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstances, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting others.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

6.) Everyday you should strive to make your spouse laugh or smile. Enjoy each other. Find comfort in each other. Play silly games, make up songs, find joy in the little things, and most important of all, remember to always end and start the day with a simple, "I love you", because if you do, you should say it. In other words, be nice and never say mean or hateful things to the person whom you love the most, and who loves you just as much.

7.) If you can't talk to the person you're married to, then you shouldn't talk to anyone. Even if the problem is with them, you need to speak with them first. Be truthful with your emotions, wants, and desires. Don't be afraid to admit what you want and need. Don't be afraid of rejection. Ultimate trust and honestly must be preserved at all times, if a marriage is to be successful. If you can't share your hopes, dreams, fears, and failures, with the person who loves you the most, and without fear of retribution, then you shouldn't share them with anyone else

8.) Spend quality time together every week. Make plans, and keep them. Date your spouse, just as you did when you were courting, (yes, yes, Draco and Hermione never dated, they just got married, we know.) Pick one day a week for a date, even if the date is a simple walk, or as elaborate as a weekend away, and make sure to spend one day a week as a family, because family is forever.

9.) Share your interest and passions with each other. Don't be afraid to show your spouse the 'real you', and what is really important to you. Make time for yourself, but make time to be together. Be selfless with your time and your pursuits. If there is something you enjoy doing by yourself, than you should enjoy it even more sharing it with your loved one. Share of your time, talent, love and life.

10.) Fall in love with your spouse every day, all over again, as if each day is the first day, or the last day.

* * *

_A/N: I'm so sorry about the time between updates. I think it's been a bit over two weeks. This story will wrap up in 7 more chapters. I'm glad I thought of this little 'fantasy spell' because it gives me a good little plot point to prove that no matter what, they would have married, and it also lets me use all these little ideas I have for stories that aren't fleshed out enough to be chaptered fics. I suppose I could write some as one shots, but sometimes with one shots, I feel like, what's the point? Thanks again for reading! _


	24. Chapter 24

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 24:**

Hermione was so pleased with the way the last altered reality spell went that she decided she had to do one more. This would be the last one. This time, she would make it so she was aware that she was in a fantasy, but her loving spouse Draco, who was still sound asleep, would not be aware of anything again, at least until he woke up in the morning. He would stay asleep, lend her his mind and body (she laughed silently to herself) and she would make certain, for the last time that they were meant to be. She looked once more at her sleeping husband, and silently said the incantation for the altered reality spell one last time.

Then she stopped. She said the incantation to stop the spell as soon as she said the spell to start it. She decided to go to the bathroom first. She really had to go, and she didn't want any distractions. She leaned over, looked at Draco, touched his hair, and whispered, "I'll be right back and we'll continue." She scooted off the bed and padded to the bathroom.

That was when Draco opened his eyes.

IT WASN'T A DREAM! That little sneak! He thought he had just dreamt that he and Hermione had met at a coffee shop and that he had told her that he was going to marry her someday. Then, as soon as he woke up, and he heard her utter the spell for the 'fantasy spell' (they really needed to get a name for it), and then utter the spell to end it before it could begin again, and that was when he knew – **she had performed the spell on him while he slept!**

What a sneak. What a devious, underhanded, conniving, Malfoy thing to do. He was actually a bit proud, if not peeved. Why did she feel the need to do another spell? Was she not already convinced? What did the woman need? How much more proof did she want? Did she want their marriage vows written in stone? How many more assurances did she want? He sat up and smiled at the thought of her last little fantasy. It took place long before they really met again, and long before he began to have a crush on her, in fact, it took place right after school, and still they would have gotten together. Seriously, what more did she need? What other scenario was she going to perform? He heard the bathroom door creak open, so he lay back down, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep.

Hermione got quietly back into bed. Draco hadn't moved a muscle. She smiled again, said, "I love you, Draco." She kissed his forehead. He almost blew his cover by throwing his arms around her and kissing her senseless, because she was being so sweet, but he really wanted to see what other fantasy she was going to perform. He also wanted to teach her a little lesson, even if he was temporarily thrown off guard by her sweetness.

She said the spell again, and they were transported to the Auror's office. Draco had to remember that he was supposed to be an 'unwilling' party to this little spell. He wasn't supposed to be aware or cognizant of their present state of marriage, but he felt confused. He was alone in the office. It looked the same as it did during present day. Surely, she wasn't checking to see if they were compatible now, was she?

So he was aware of the where, and the who, and the what, but not the when. He picked up his desk calendar, and almost laughed aloud. It _wa_s present day, or more specifically, it was two days ago, Friday. Okay, he could handle this. Wait. Was he married to her in this fantasy? What would be the point of that? He looked at his hand. No wedding ring. Okay. He could handle this, too.

Harry Potter walked in the door. Why did a perfectly good fantasy have to be ruined by the appearance of Harry Potter? "Do you have plans tonight, Malfoy?"

"Why, do you want to ask me out on a date?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"I don't think my wife would approve," Harry said seriously. He sat at his desk and said, "Did you get that report done on the McMullen case?"

That was the real case Draco was working on in his time, and no, he didn't have it ready, but this wasn't real so he lied and said, "Yes, it's done." Hell, it was a fantasy. He could pretend it was done, and there was nothing this 'pretend' Scarhead could do about it.

"May I see it, please?" Harry asked.

Damn, even an altered reality Harry Potter was a pain in the arse. Draco was about to make up another lie when Hermione walked in the office. She looked just as she looked this past Friday, in other words, she looked sad and lonely. Why did she look sad and lonely?

"Hermione?" Harry greeted.

He walked over and took her hand. Hermione looked over at Draco, gave him a small nod of her head, in which he returned, and she said, "Harry, may I speak with you?" Draco leaned back in his seat, feigning disinteresting.

"Yes, of course, what is it?"

"I left my husband," she said.

Draco fell off his chair.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?" Harry shouted.

"Nothing, nothing, I dropped my pen," he lied. He got down on the floor, and hid. What the hell was going on here? Who was her husband in this little nightmare?

Harry took Hermione's hand again, and set her down in his chair. He said, "Now, Hermione, what did you say?"

"I left my husband," she said.

"What? Why?" Harry seemed upset.

"He forgot our anniversary," she said.

Draco remained on the floor and winced. Who was her husband!

"I know, I know, Hermione," Harry said. "He felt terrible about that. He was working late that night, and then he went out with all of us, and it was well after midnight when I, I mean, when he remembered it was your anniversary."

"No, Harry, you remembered, not him," she said. "Ginny told me." Hermione placed her head on his desk and started to cry.

Draco would give his wife kudos. She was a great actor, because she knew this was fake, right. Whom was she trying to convince? Oh, right, him. Now, who was her husband!

Harry sighed. "Let me go tie up some loose ends here, Hermione, and then Owl Ginny, and then I'll take you home, okay."

"I'm not going home, Harry," she said. "Didn't you hear me? I left him. I shouldn't have married him in the first place. I shouldn't have taken him back after he cheated on me with Pansy."

"What?" Draco shouted.

"Malfoy?" Harry shouted back. He walked around to Draco's desk and saw that he was still on the floor. "I didn't know you were still here."

Draco whispered, "She's married to Weasley?"

"You know that, you went to the wedding, moron," Harry said. "Get off the floor. Go comfort her or something." Harry turned back around and said, "Listen, Hermione, stay here. I'll be right back."

Draco stood up and walked over to his wife. He was about to tell her that 'the jig was up', that she was discovered, that he knew it was all a sham, that he was on to her, and so she needed to get them out of this 'nightmare' (for after all, if she was married to Weasley, it wasn't a fantasy, it was a nightmare), because he needed his sleep. However, she was really crying. She had her head on Harry's desk and she was really crying, hard.

The little minx.

"So, Granger, Weasley forgot your anniversary, aye?" he asked.

Hermione sat up and said, "Oh, Malfoy, I didn't see you there. Yes, he did."

"And that's sufficient reason to leave him, huh?" he said. "Sounds pretty lame by my standards. I mean, you married the git, even though he was unfaithful to you, so really, is forgetting your anniversary that great of a sin?"

"It is to me," she said sadly.

"I suppose you're trying to make a point here, aren't you," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're trying to teach me a lesson," he said.

"Go away, Malfoy," she said. She placed her head back on Harry's desk.

Draco leaned against his desk, crossed his ankles and arms and said, "Listen, point taken, you little liar."

She popped her head up and said, "What?"

"Point taken! I shouldn't have forgotten our anniversary and because I did, you left me and ran up to this cabin to teach me a lesson, and now you're trying to rub salt in the wound even more, by doing this little ruse, but I'm on to you, missy. I am awake! I know what's going on here."

"You're delusional, that's what's going on here. We aren't in a cabin; we're in the Auror's office. You're really off your rocker, Malfoy," she said through her tears. "I don't even know to what you are referring, but none of this has anything to do with you. It has to do with my husband and me."

"Right, which has nothing to do with me," he said, shaking his head. "Didn't you hear me? I was awake when you said the spell, Granger! I was awake when you went to the bathroom!"

Harry came back into the room, and Hermione said, "Harry, I think Draco Malfoy might need a psychiatric consult."

"I've thought that for years," Harry said. He took Hermione's hand, helped her to stand, and said, "Come on, let's go."

"No," she said, pulling her hand from his. "I'm going up to my dad's old fishing cabin to think for a weekend. I just need to get away. Don't tell Ron where I am, okay. I'm only telling you because someone should know."

"Hermione," Harry began, but then he didn't have anything else to say. He merely smiled and said, "Be careful. I love you."

Draco was still sitting on his desk, glaring at the two. Hermione started to leave the room, but looked back at Harry and said, "And really, get Malfoy some professional help."

"Wait!" Draco shouted. Hermione turned to him. He walked up to her. "You changed your mind at the last moment, didn't you? You made it so that you weren't aware of being married to me. Why? Damn, you cheated me out of my revenge. I was going to get you back, Granger, for being so devious, and now you've ruined everything, and I guess I've ruined everything too, because you're going to wake up and you'll think that we weren't meant to be."

Hermione stared at him with her mouth open. She looked over at Harry, who had his wand drawn. "Harry, perhaps we should take him to St. Mungo's. Did he have a recent head injury?"

Draco sighed and said, "I'm just pulling your leg. You're married to Weasley, as much as that makes me want to blanch, and I'm just acting crazy to get attention, and none of this has anything to do with me." Draco sat down in his chair, crossed his arms, and pouted. Now what was he going to do? She would wake up from the spell and somehow turn this around and be angry with him.

Hermione leaned toward Harry, kissed his cheek, and said, "Thanks for being a good friend. I'll be okay, really I will."

"Will you wait one more minute? I do want to Owl Ginny, and I don't want to leave you know who alone," and he pointed to Draco. Harry nodded, squeezed her hand, and left the office.

"He must think I'm a moron if he thinks I don't know he means me," Draco said to her.

She smiled and walked up to him. "I'm a Healer now, you know?"

"Of course I know, Granger. I've seen you on several occasions, in a professional capacity that is, at least, I think I have, I'm confused," he said. Great, now he _was_ sounding crazy. Wait, if this was after her 'marriage' to Weasley, Draco would have already had a crush on her, wouldn't he have? He looked up at her and said, "You know, I did hit my head this morning. Maybe you should examine me."

"I was worried about something like that, or perhaps you have a fever," she said. She walked a step closer and pulled out her wand. She waved it over his head and body. She touched his face, looked in his eyes, and while her hand still cupped his cheek she said, "Vitals are fine, and you don't have a fever, or a sign of brain damage, well, any more than usual." She dropped her hand.

"You're so quaint," he said with a smile.

"How's Pansy these days?" she asked.

"Ugh, how the bloody hell would I know," he said back.

"You don't know how your own wife is?" she asked.

Draco backed his chair away from the desk so quickly at that comment that it toppled over again, and for the second time he landed on the floor. "MY WHAT?" he shouted.

This wasn't a fantasy, it really was a bloody nightmare, and it was getting worse every second it continued!


	25. Chapter 25

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 25: **

Hermione had just finished examining Draco for either a concussion or a brain injury, due to what she assumed was his odd behavior, however, he still wasn't convinced that this little 'scenario' was genuine. He still thought she was completely aware of what she was doing. She was trying to teach him a lesson of some type. She was trying to out master the master, but she was in for a rude awakening. She may be smart, no one could deny that fact, but when it came to lies and deceit, Hermione Granger 'no hyphen' Malfoy had nothing on her husband.

She lowered her hand from his forehead and asked, "How's Pansy these days?"

"Ugh, how the bloody hell would I know," he said back. Why would she ask him that?

"You don't know how your own wife is?" she asked.

Draco backed his chair away from the desk so quickly at that comment that it toppled over again, and for the second time he landed on the floor. "MY WHAT?" he shouted.

"Your wife," she said slowly. She backed away from him and looked out the door of the Auror's office. She said, "Harry? Harry, are you still out there?"

"What did you just say?" Draco asked, standing up from his place on the floor.

"I was just calling for Harry, in case you needed restrained. You're acting very strangely, Malfoy." She walked back into the room.

"NO!" he clarified. "Who did you say was my wife?"

Hermione stared at him peculiarly, backed out of the room again, looked down the hallway to the left, then to the right, took out her wand, and said, "Harry, where are you?"

Draco rushed up to her, pulled her back into the office, and slammed the door shut. "This has gone on long enough, Granger! Stop it right now! It's over! You've taught me a lesson. I forgot our wedding anniversary, and so you thought you would do one more little fantasy spell, pretend that the Weasel forgot your anniversary, and in the end, I'm supposed to learn some moral life lesson someway, and I get it. I've learned my lesson, but seriously, you didn't have to marry me off to Pansy! Also, how can you still question the fact that we are meant to be together? Do you regret marrying me that much that you're looking for someway to get out it? I'm starting to think that's the reason you need even more assurances, but I'm over it! Now let's wake up, so that we can go back to bed and get some sleep!"

"Draco, let go of my arm," she said, "or I'll be forced to hex you!"

"Right. You're going to hex your own husband because he's on to your little ruse. Even you wouldn't do that, Granger." He held onto her arm tighter.

"Malfoy, let me go now!" she ordered.

"How about, no! Go on, hex me, Granger. Go on, I dare you" he goaded.

So that's what she did.

The next thing he knew, someone was patting his cheek. He opened his eyes. He stared up at an ugly, mint green ceiling, in a small, mint green cell somewhere, and Hermione was patting his cheek, and urging him to wake up. He sat up, held his head, because of the pain, and looked around. He wasn't back at the cabin…on no, that would be too simple. He was still locked in the same nightmare, in one of the holding cells that the Aurors used when they arrested people. He tried to sit up all the way, but Hermione was next to him on the small cot, by his hip, and she pushed on his shoulder to force him to lie back down.

"Don't get up yet, Malfoy," she urged. She pushed his bangs off his forehead and said, "I didn't mean to hurt you, especially as you seem to be suffering from some sort of malady or mental illness, but you frightened me."

"I frightened you?" he asked. "I'm sorry. How did I frighten you?" He didn't mean to scare her.

"Well, you grabbed my arm, and you were holding it so tightly, and you wouldn't let go, and you were saying all sorts of crazy things, such as you and I were married, and that I was trying to teach you a lesson," she explained.

He moaned and closed his eyes. "Did Potter arrest me?"

She explained, "I couldn't find Harry. I think he must have already left for the evening. I levitated you in here. You aren't arrested, but would you please let me escort you to St. Mungo's? I'm very worried about you."

He pushed her hand off his forehead, swung his feet around her body and sat up next to her. He said, "That won't be necessary." He wasn't sure what to think now, because he was certain his wife would never go this far to teach him a lesson. This was just merely another one of her fantasy spells, which he was slowly ruining. He wouldn't be surprised if they both woke up from this spell and she ran away from the cabin screaming for help, or in the very least, divorced him as soon as they got home.

He looked over at her and said, "I was just having a laugh at you. I'm fine. I'm married to Pansy. You're married to Ron. Life's peachy."

"It was a joke?" she asked, dubiously. It was obvious that she didn't believe him.

He sighed and said, "Yes, just a cruel, mean spirited joke, which I thought was on me, but apparently is on you instead." He stood up and said, "I don't know what to do now."

"About what?" she asked.

"I was talking to myself," he said. He looked at her quickly and said, "That doesn't mean I'm crazy."

"Okay," she said, still not believing him. She stood up and added, "Well, if you won't let me take you to St. Mungo's, will you at least let escort you home?"

He didn't know where he lived in this distorted reality, so he shook his head no. "You go on home, Granger. Go back to Weasel."

"Didn't you hear me tell Harry that I'm leaving him?" she asked.

"Right, right," he said. He sat back down beside her on the small cot. "He forgot your anniversary, and for some reason, that's reason enough to leave him, right?"

"No, that's not enough of a reason," she said.

"It's not?" he asked. Then why did she leave HIM this weekend? What else had he done that had been so wrong? Yes, he had talked to everyone but her about their problems, and yes, he had been avoiding her to some degree, and yes, he hadn't been there emotionally for her, and gee…he would have left him a long time ago if he was her. He took a deep breath in and said, "If that's not the only reason you're leaving him, then what else has he done? Tell me. Sometimes it helps to talk things out."

"I should be talking to him, not you," she said.

"True, but he's not here, and I am," he said. "Plus, I really want to know. You see, I left Pansy, too." There. He could leave his fake wife if she could leave her fake husband.

"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry. I had no clue. Why?" she asked. She reached over and took his hand. He looked down at their clasped hands and he felt such love for her.

He looked up at her and said, "She's been keeping things from me, for instance, she tried to get pregnant without telling me, even though the doctors told her that she shouldn't get pregnant."

"Really?" Hermione asked. She bit her bottom lip and quizzed, "What else?"

"Well, she's been very unhappy lately, and she's unwilling to talk to me about it, and though I've tried to talk to other people about it, I haven't talked to her. Every time I do try to talk to her, she gets angry with me, and it hurts so much when she's angry with me, and it seems that she's angry all the time."

Hermione looked down at the floor. "Is there anything more?"

"She wants to continue her education, but she thought I wouldn't like that, so instead of talking to me about it, she just assumed she already knew the answer, so she took it upon herself to just not do it, even though I would have been supportive, I would have!" He stood up quickly. "I hate that she thinks I wouldn't support her. I hate that she's so sad. It makes me sad to know that I make her sad."

Hermione looked up at him pensively. "Maybe you're not the reason she's sad. Maybe she's sad for other reasons, and she's taking it out on you."

He started to pace around the room. "It's true, it's not easy to be married to her, and I do love her, I do. I realize that I'm not the easiest bloke to be married to either. I also realize that I'm very selfish, and that she probably does try to talk to me sometimes, and I'm often dismissive of her, and make light of things. I make jokes out of everything."

"You do?" She stood up as well.

"Yes, and I don't mean to do that. I really don't," he said. He took her hand again. She looked down at their grasped hands, and then back in his eyes. "I realize that I think of myself before I think of her, and I'm really sorry about that now. I even forced her to move from a house that she loved, without giving it due consideration."

"Ron did that to me, too," she said back.

"Ron's an arse," Draco said with a smile.

"It sounds like you are, too," she said with a smile that matched his.

He pulled her slightly closer to him and said, "Here's my worst fault. I forgot my anniversary, too, but Granger, that doesn't mean that I don't love my wife. It means I'm a man, and I don't always even know what month it is, let alone what day it is. Sometimes I don't even remember to put clean pants on under my trousers, but that doesn't mean that I don't love my wife."

"It means you're a moron, and perhaps a bit unsanitary at that," she teased, one side of her mouth pulled up in a grin.

"I'm very hygienic, and I'm not a moron, just a man, but a man in love," he said. "Isn't that enough, Granger? Isn't it enough that I love my wife, and that I would lay down my life for her and my child and that I would never hurt her on purpose, and that when she cries, or is in pain, so am I? Isn't that enough?"

Hermione started to cry. Silent tears ran down her face. "It sounds like you should go back to your wife, Malfoy."

"And maybe you should go back to your husband," he said to her in return. "His faults can't be that bad."

Hermione let go of his hand and sat back on the cot, and began to cry harder. He sat beside her, pulled her into his arms and said, "Won't you forgive your husband, Granger?"

"I can't," she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I can't tell you," she said. "Not now, not after everything that you just told me about your wife. I wasn't going to tell you anyway, but after everything you just said to me, I really can't tell you now." She wiped the tears from her face, and extricated herself from his embrace. She stood, and he followed. She walked back into the main Auror's office, and he stood in the doorway between the two rooms, watching her.

"Sometimes things aren't as hard as they appear, Granger," he said. "Tell me, why can't you forgive your husband?" In his heart, he was thinking, 'Why can't you forgive me?' He forgot that Weasley was her husband during this fantasy.

"Because he's been having an affair," she said. "He's betrayed me in every possible way. I think I could forgive everything else, but that."

Hermione hung her head, placed her hands on her face, and cried harder. He rushed to her and said, "Hush. I'm sorry. I didn't know. Are you sure?"

"Yes, although I don't know who he's cheating with, I know he is, because I found a letter that he wrote to her. He says that he loves her. He said in that letter that he loved her in a way that he's never loved me." She placed her head on his shoulder and he stroked her hair.

Then he knew…this would have happened anyway, even if she had married Weasley. Ron still would have cheated on Hermione with Pansy, just as he had in real life when they were dating, and somehow, someway, Hermione still would have found herself drawn to Draco, just as she had in this fantasy. He would have comforted her, and they would have still fallen in love. He hadn't messed up everything after all.

Then, he got a dastardly, 'Dracoish' idea. He was going to speed this fantasy along a bit. He said, "I think you need to sit down. I have something to tell you." He pulled her back into the little holding cell, and sat with her on the small cot. They sat side-by-side, he held her tightly in his arms, stroked her back with one hand, and his other hand came around to cup her cheek.

This was just a fantasy, but he knew in his heart that if this had been real, Ron and Pansy would have still fallen in love, just as surely as he and Hermione would have still fallen in love. Therefore, he held her hands in his and said, "Hermione, I think I might know with whom Ron's having an affair."

She looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Who?"

"My wife, Pansy."

Hermione pushed on Draco's chest, and in her surprise at his statement, she fell off the cot and onto the floor.


	26. Chapter 26

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 26:**

"Hermione, I think I might know with whom Ron's having an affair." Draco took his wife's hands.

She looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Who?"

He smirked, and then with one eyebrow raised he said, "My wife, Pansy." So there, he thought.

Hermione pushed on Draco's chest, and in her surprise at his statement, she fell off the cot and onto the floor. She stared up at him from her place on the floor, with a look of utter amazement and surprise. 'Shocked' wouldn't even be a strong enough word for the expression that Draco found on her face. He reached down to help her up, but she slapped his hand away.

From her place on the floor she screamed, "What did you say? Pansy and Ron are really having an affair? I suspected as much, but you just confirmed it!" Despondently she sat on the floor, despair etching her face, and Draco felt instant remorse at his lie.

He still wasn't one hundred percent certain that Hermione wasn't aware of everything that was going on in this last little fantasy, until now. There was no way she could fake the look that was on her face. He had seen that look before, when she found out about Ron and Pansy's affair the first time, the real time, and again, right after Ron and Pansy got married.

He had to rectify things. He said, "I made that up. I don't know why, but I did. Pansy wouldn't cheat on me, would she, and especially not with Weasel." Hermione frowned and he knew he was making it worse. "I mean, I don't know what I mean." He sat on the small cot, reached for her forearm, and pulled her up beside him.

She sat beside him, lagged against his shoulder, and cried. He placed his arm around her shoulder. He wished he knew the way to make this fantasy end. If there wasn't a way for all parties involved to end one of these fantasy spells, then they might not make much money on them in the end. That though upset him as much as the thought that he had just caused Hermione pain.

She said, "I knew it was her, I knew it."

He hated that she had to relive this horror and despair, much as she lived it once before. Draco was the cause of her pain this time. He placed a hand on her face. Just because Ron had acted so atrociously to Hermione in real life was no reason for the fantasy Ron to hurt her, not when Draco could control the outcome. "It really is just a bad joke on my part. You're so much more beautiful, caring, and smart than Pansy is. Why would Weasley give all of that up to be with her?"

"Why would Pansy give up you to be with him, that's what you really want to know right? Don't try to shield me from the truth, Malfoy," Hermione said. She pushed his hand from her face, and placed her own hand there to wipe away tears. Then she clasped both her hands in her lap. He covered them with his right hand.

"No, really, I just said that to be mean. I'm mean and cruel, you know," he said. He continued to hold her, his left arm around her shoulders, his right hand holding both of hers.

She looked at him, at their clasped hands, back to his face and said, "Yes, I can see how mean and cruel you're being. Stop it Draco, I know. You know. I suspect even Harry knows."

Draco realized something at this point…as everyone well knew, Ron and Pansy really did have an affair, in their real lives, before Ron and Hermione married, so perhaps, even if Ron and Hermione had married, the wanker would still probably have cheated on Granger, and with Pansy. Which means one thing and one thing only: Ron would have left Hermione, and Draco and Hermione still would have gotten together!

YES! He hadn't ruined a thing! Instead, he helped wrap up this last little fantasy quite nicely with his 'Ron and Pansy' fabrication. "Granger, would you like to go out for drinks, and talk about things, commiserate, and all that?"

"I don't think so, Malfoy." She stood and walked back into the main Auror's office. He was close behind. "I really am heading to my father's cabin, to think about things. I need to be alone."

"I don't think you should be alone," he said. "I think I should go with you."

"And I don't think we should be together," she added. "You're hurting, I'm hurting, and being thrown together because we both feel bruised and battered isn't very smart."

"I'm not hurting," he said, telling the complete, unmitigated truth. "Pansy is a pug-faced, shallow, selfish creature, and if I did indeed marry her, and until I see the marriage certificate I'm still not conceding to that, but if I did, I did it only because the woman I really love is married to someone else."

She threw up her hands and said, "Well, there you go. You're free to pursue her now, aren't you? At least this has turned out good for one of us." She turned to leave.

He was talking about her, of course, but she didn't know that. He pleaded, "Granger, please, I don't think you should be alone. Let me at least take you to your father's cabin. I'll take you there, and then I'll turn right around and leave."

"Malfoy," she whined. "No, as I just said, that wouldn't be smart."

He rushed to her and grabbed her arm. "I don't care! I don't think you should be alone. Let me try to make you happy. Let me make all of the pain go away. We should at least go there and talk it out."

"And I don't think that we should be together. What would that mean? It would be disastrous."

"Or the perfect solution," he said.

"Malfoy," she said again, almost pleading. "What are you really proposing?"

"I want to make sure you're alright, and happy, Granger," he said. He took both her hands in his. That was his goal the day of Weasel and Pugface's wedding. He went there that day to make Hermione Granger happy, and he ended up making her his wife instead, which made him happy in the process. It worked before; it would work again, even if it were a fantasy this time.

"My happiness isn't your problem, and Draco, don't you see, if we were to say, go to my father's cabin, and even if we just spent the whole night talking, where would we go from there? We're so different. We're such an unlikely pair, you and I. It would lead to nothing, and you know it. We would both be on the rebound, and so we would never really know if what we have is real, or if it was borne from the hurt and pain we felt from the scorn of our broken relationships with Ron and Pansy. Also, unlike Ron and Pansy, I could never cheat outside my marriage vows."

"That's good to know," he said happily, because it was. "And you've hit the proverbial nail on the head, Granger, and goodness sakes, why haven't I seen it before now. That's been your problem all along. You've never really doubted that we were meant for each other, you just doubted the fact that it happened the way it did, and so fast, and you think that you fell for me because you were on the rebound from Weasley." Hermione looked confused, but for once, Draco saw everything crystal clear.

"You just have to trust that we are meant to be together, Granger," he said. "Everything points to that, no matter how you mix it up, no matter the scenario, no matter the obstacle, no matter the fantasy. It doesn't matter if you make it be in the past, the present or the future. We, you and I, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, the world's most unlikely pair, are really the most likely pair of all."

She reached for his forehead again, but he swatted her hand away, but then he grabbed her wrist. "For goodness sakes, I don't have a fever! What I am having is a defining moment, an epiphany, my second one of the weekend, and I just wish you were really my wife Hermione, and not Weasley's wife Hermione, the one I want to seduce, so that you would realize it, too."

He dropped her wrist and said, "Go to your father's cabin, Granger, but I'm coming along, because that's the way this story is supposed to end."

"I don't know to what story you are alluding, but it doesn't matter, because you're not coming," she said, a bit apprehensive. She started to back toward the door.

"I love you, Hermione Granger."

"It's Hermione Weasley," she said.

"Bugger that! You mean you didn't even keep your last name with that vermin?" he asked.

"He didn't want me to," she said quietly.

"So? I didn't either, but you kept it with me," he said. "You're Hermione Granger no hyphen Malfoy."

"No hyphen?" she asked. "You mean I don't use a hyphen between the names in your little fantasy where I'm married to you?"

"First, this is the fantasy, and no, you don't use a hyphen, but the joke has always been to spell out the words 'no hyphen'. My father gave you a card on your birthday right after we married, and on the front, he wrote out, To: Hermione Granger 'No Hyphen' Malfoy, and it has rather stuck. For a while he even called you 'No Hyphen' but you threatened to hex his balls off, and he's quite attached to them, so he stopped calling you that."

"Malfoy, I'm still so worried about you, but I have enough of my own problems, so I'm leaving, and I really hope you seek medical attention. Perhaps the strain of Pansy's affair has left you delusional," she wondered, more to herself.

She ran from the room, and he ran after her. He stopped her before she got on the lifts, by pulling on her arm. "One more thing, Granger," he said, turning her around to look at him.

"What?" she asked, breathlessly, her wand in her hand.

He reached for a strand of her hair, which was across her shoulder. He picked it up and placed it across her back. He brushed the same hand against the silky skin of her throat. She stood very still. He cupped his hand around her jaw and cheek, and stroked his thumb back and forth across her cheek, finally touching her bottom lip with just the faintest pressure of his thumb.

She closed her eyes. He said, "I want you to know one thing, Granger." She looked up at him. "I would never, ever, cheat on my wife, and I know that you would never cheat on your husband." In his heart, he was referring to him and her. Then, his words came out a jumbled mess as he said, "But forgive me for this." He lowered his head to her.

He kissed her. Her lips were soft, and giving, and sweet, and it was a wonder that Draco could keep it chaste. He moved his lips insistently over hers, until they parted, and his tongue sank between them. She made a sound in the back of her throat, and suddenly, her hands wrapped around his neck, her wand tumbling to the floor, his hands slid down her neck, to her shoulders, to her waist.

She tilted her head back, twined her tongue with his, the pleasure sweeter than anything he had ever experienced, and it pierced his very soul. He moved his mouth from hers, to forge a path of kisses to her throat. She murmured softly, her hands now in his hair, his hands on her back, pushing her closer. He grew bolder, kissed her harder, and she began to kiss him just as hard.

He finally lifted his head, and she stared at him in shock. Then, her head dropped to his chest. He held her as tight as he could and he said, "Damn you, Granger, the first words out of your mouth had better not be that, that was a mistake, or I'll bloody well scream."

She looked up at him and said, "Draco, would you like to go to my father's cabin with me this weekend?"

Draco smiled and said, "Sweetheart, you're not going to believe this, but we're already there." Somehow, he just knew that the fantasy had ended. They were back in the bedroom of the cabin, on the bed. It was still the early hours of dawn, still dark outside and it was still even raining. Draco was on his side, staring at his wife. She was on her side, staring at her husband, breathing hard, near tears, confused and bewildered.

She reached out a hand to him and she said, "I'm sorry, but I had to do one more fantasy. You knew though, didn't you? The whole time, you knew."

"And you didn't. Why didn't you know? Why did you make it so that you were unaware again? I discovered that it was a spell right before it started, and I assumed you knew it was a spell, too."

"Why did you need yet another confirmation that we were meant to be together? Hermione, don't you see, none of these fantasies mean a thing, because that's all they are, fantasies. They aren't real. They have no basis of truth to them. We didn't travel back in time, we didn't travel to the future. We only lived out the way things might have been, but in the end, when the light of day turns from the dawn, all that matters is that we love each other, and that we are meant to be together, because we are together."

"Are you very angry with me?" she asked.

"What I am, is very, very tired, Granger." He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "May I please, please, get a few hours of sleep, and then get out of this awful cabin, this awful rain, and go home, back to our son, back to our life, and back to my sane, happy, normal wife?"

"Oh, yes, please," she said. She leaned forward, kissed him, and then placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes, going to sleep almost instantly. He stayed awake just a while longer, listening to the rain, holding his wife in his arms.


	27. Chapter 27

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 27:**

The rain had finally stopped, and the sun was shining brightly through the lead-paned windows of the bedroom of the small cabin where Hermione was just now waking up. The first thing she did was look over at the clock on the dresser. It was after ten in the morning. She closed her eyes again. She could have slept much later, since it was almost dawn before they finally went to bed. She reopened her eyes, reluctantly, felt for Draco even though she could see that he wasn't there, shrugged, figuring he was in the other room, and she hopped out of bed.

That was when she discovered that his suitcase was gone, as was all his things. Then to her dismay, she noticed that even her suitcase was missing. All of her things that were on the dresser, her brush, her makeup, her toiletries, were also missing. She frowned and ran to the bathroom. It was empty. She ran to the kitchen, and it was empty, and odder still, all the dishes had been cleaned, and the few provisions that she had brought with her, and which were left, were packed in a box and were on the counter.

She walked cautiously into the main room and it was devoid of Draco, and of any other signs that they had been there this weekend. Papers and books, which were strewn around the room before, were back in their proper spots. The small bed was tidied and the fireplace had been cleaned. She scratched the side of her face, and went to the bathroom. In the bathroom, she saw her purse, some soap, some shampoo, a comb, her makeup, one towel, one washcloth, and a change of clothing, and that was it.

She sat on the commode, to take care of business, and then for some reason, she looked up. Good thing. There was a 'note' on the bathroom ceiling. She smiled before she read it. It was reminiscent of the note she left on the ceiling when she went into labour with Cam. It was short and to the point. It read:

_Granger – I packed our things, left you some clothes and some food. I drove your car home, so you only need to apparate to the Burrow. I cleaned up as well. Clean the small, little, modest, tiny bathroom after your shower, won't you? See you later at the Burrow. Love – Draco._

As soon as she read it, it disappeared. She took a quick shower, ate some breakfast, dressed, tidied the bathroom, took the dirty towels with her and placed them in the box of food, which she then shrunk and placed in her purse. She never once questioned why Draco left before her, or without telling her. She figured he had a good reason. She no longer worried about these types of things. If this weekend taught her nothing else, it taught her to trust her husband.

She arrived at the Burrow right before twelve. Usually, on a Sunday, everyone was already there by noon. Today was the exception. She apparated to the back garden, and stepped right into the house, to find Mrs. Weasley sitting at the table, along with her mother, oddly enough.

"Hello, Mother, Molly, where is everyone?" she asked. She bent down and hugged Molly, and then walked around and kissed her mother's cheek. "What are you doing here?" She asked her mother, before either woman could answer her first question, and then before her mother could answer the second question, she said, "Where's my baby?"

Then, a sight she never thought she would see presented itself before her eyes. Lucius Malfoy walked from the living room of the Burrow into the large kitchen, holding baby Cygnus.

"Here is my grandson," Lucius said.

Hermione frowned and said, "Give me my son," and she walked over and held out her hands.

Lucius held the baby above his head and said to him, "You don't want to go to the evil woman, do you, grandson. You want to stay with your grandfather."

"So help me Lucius Malfoy I'll hex you so fast you won't know what hit you if you don't hand me my son," Hermione said, though she knew he was joking, she really missed her baby.

"Hand her the baby, now, Lucius," Narcissa said as she walked in the room.

"My son, please?" Hermione demanded.

"You mean, my grandson," Lucius said back. He handed the baby to his mother. She brought him immediately to her chest and kissed his head. She said soothing words to him, and told him how much she missed him. She rocked him back and forth in her arms.

"Why are you two here and where is everyone else?" Hermione asked Lucius.

"Your parents told us to meet you here. They told us Friday evening that you left our son and grandson, and that our son went to get you, and since we didn't know what we would encounter this afternoon, we thought we would show a united front, so to speak."

Hermione whipped around, looked at her father who had just walked in the door, he grimaced, said, "It was your mother's idea," and he walked right back out of the backdoor.

"Mother! You called the Malfoys!" she yelled.

"Well, darling," Phyllis began, "they're Draco's parents."

"And Cygnus' Grandparents," Lucius interrupted.

Hermione turned and gave him a dirty look. She turned back to her mother and asked, "But why did you think you needed to call them?"

"Because we had no idea if you would be coming back here to tell us that you two were separating, or what. We still don't know what's going on, because you've arrived here alone, apparently. What is going on, Hermione?" her mother asked.

"I'm not sure," she said plainly.

Her father walked back in and said, "We're not sure, either, because Draco's missing in action, isn't he?"

"He's not missing," she pouted. The baby started to cry and Hermione said, "The baby needs changed." She turned to Lucius, and with an evil gleam to her eye she said, "Here, he's your grandson. Change his nappy."

Lucius laughed and said, "My darling, little, Muggle-born, daughter-in-law, let me explain something to you. I have never, once in my life, changed a dirty nappy, as you called it, and I won't start now, grandson or not."

Hermione nodded and said, "Oh, right, I see. You're that grandfather. Good to know."

Lucius frowned and said, "What grandfather?"

"You know," Hermione started, "there's always one grandfather who is the doting, caring, fun granddad, who likes to be called 'Pappy or Grandpapa' who takes the grandchild to the circus, buys him candy even when he's not supposed to, and who wipes his nose, changes his nappy, that sort of thing, and then there's the other grandfather. The one that demands to be called 'Grandfather' and who gives the child money and possessions, but who won't touch him when he's dirty, or has a runny nose, and who in general, is never very close to him. There's always one of those in each family, and that's you."

She turned to her Dad and said, "Dad, will you take him upstairs and change him while I figure out what's going on here?"

"Sure," Edward said. He reached for the baby and said, "Come to Granddaddy, Cammy."

"Cammy?" Lucius yelled. "No one calls my grandson Cammy." He took the baby from Hermione and said, "You are playing with fire, girl, trying to manipulate the master manipulator."

She laughed and said, "That's what Draco always says, funny, but still, he will change a dirty nappy."

Lucius seethed, took a deep breath, and said, "Fine, I will change my grandson, CYGNUS!" He took the baby and disapparated away.

Hermione looked shocked and said, "Where did they go?"

Narcissa laughed and said, "He probably went to the Manor to have one of the elves change him. They'll be right back. Now, where's my son? What happened this weekend? Please, tell me that everything is alright between you two."

"On that note," Molly said, "I'll give you all some privacy." She walked upstairs.

Hermione sat at the table along with her mum, dad and mother-in-law and explained everything that happened that weekend. Lucius arrived back a moment later, and she continued to speak, even after he handed her the baby. She told them about how Draco forgot their anniversary, about her not being able to have another baby, about her going back to school, him quitting his job, everything.

She told them about her dissatisfaction, depression, and loneliness. She told them how Draco lived in constant fear of disappointing her, or making her angry. She told them how they had talked to everyone about their problems except for each other.

She reached in her purse, pulled out the Ten Commandments, and showed them to their parents. They passed them around, reading them, laughing, making comments here and there. She told them about her fantasy spells, and how no matter what, they were meant to be together.

Lucius leaned over to his wife and said, "We are definitely patenting that spell and we're going to make a fortune from it."

"So you see, everything's fine, and he didn't say anything out of the way to me this morning, of course, he wasn't there, but he left that note I told you about, on the ceiling, so I thought he would be here when I got here," she finished.

"When we got here, pumpkin," Edward said, "Molly told us that Draco had come and gone."

"But where is everyone else?" Hermione asked.

"I haven't a clue," he answered. "I asked Molly that and she said she didn't know either. She said that she and Arthur were babysitting little Victoire this morning, at Shell Cottage, because Fleur and Bill was stuck at some all night Quidditch game. She said when they got here, there was a note from Ginny that they all had errands to do, and would be back later."

"All of them?" Hermione asked. "That sounds fishy."

"I thought so as well," Molly said, coming back in the kitchen. "But, who am I to question things. Arthur is swinging Victoire on a swing outside, so I thought I would come in and start lunch. Just because the whole brood isn't here, doesn't mean the rest of us should starve." Edward walked outside to join Arthur, as Phyllis started to help Molly.

"I'll help, too," Hermione said. "Just let me feed Cam and put him upstairs in the crib in Ginny's old room." She started up the stairs, and met Lucius partway up.

"Perhaps you shouldn't help," Lucius said. "You know what happens when you get around knives. You tend to cut your hands off."

"Ha, ha, ha," she said drolly. "I hardly cut my hand off, and I'll remind you that time I cut my hand on the knife was your son's fault." She lifted the baby up and said, "Don't listen to the mean, mean, former Death Eater, little Cam. He hates Mummy but he loves you."

Lucius placed a hand on her wrist, and said, "Don't ever lie to my grandson, Hermione Granger 'No Hyphen' Malfoy."

"You were a former Death Eater," she said, unafraid. "That's not a lie."

"True and that I will tell him some day, when he is much older, if you would allow, but what I don't want you to lie about is that I do not hate his mother."

She cocked her head to the side, snorted, and said, "Right." She pushed him aside and started up the stairs. When she was a step above him, he reached out for her again, essentially stopping her.

She turned on the steps. "Hermione," he said sternly.

"Lucius?" she asked back.

"I said I no longer hated you. I did at one time, now I don't, accept it, girl. You are stuck with me, I am stuck with you, and we share this lovely little boy."

"And Draco," she added.

"Oh, you can have him all to yourself," he said lightly.

She smiled and said, "Are you disappointed that you won't have more grandchildren?"

He sighed and said, "I would be lying if I said no, because I am. I'm probably as disappointed as you and Draco are, but I am also as accepting as you are. My wife and I could only have one child. Your mother and father only had the one child, thank goodness." (She smacked his arm.) He continued, "And look at it this way, with only one child, there will never be a fight over the inheritance, as he will get everything in the end."

"And when will that be? Soon I hope," she said with a smile.

"Now, Hermione, I just told you that I no longer hated you, and now you are plotting my imminent demise? How very Malfoy of you, my darling daughter." He leaned up and kissed her cheek and then he touched the baby's cheek. "Take care of this one, Cygnus. She's a treasure to behold."

Hermione watched as the older man walked down the stairs, shook her head, and said aloud, "What in the hell just happened here? Did the world tip off its axis?" She headed toward the bedroom, fed the baby, burped him, and then she played with him for a while, before placing him in the bed.

Then there was a knock on the door. It was Harry Potter.

"Sh," she said her finger to her mouth. He walked in the bedroom and looked at the baby. He touched the fine curls on his little head and said, "He's as pretty as his mummy."

"Thank you, Harry. Why are you here? I thought everyone abandoned us. Where did you all go?" she asked.

"I just got here myself, so I'm as clueless as you. Molly told me that when they got back, there was a note from Ginny saying that they all had errands to run, which is odd. She said Draco was here earlier, too, and he left as well. I was on a case, and I had paperwork to finish, so that's why I just got here."

She pulled on his arm, and pulled him out of the room, into the hall. She closed the door, leaving it open a crack, and sat on the floor. He sat beside her. He explained, "Your mum called me yesterday and told me that you left Draco on Friday night."

"I didn't leave him. I just needed time to think. My mother is so dramatic," she said.

"Hmm, I always wondered where you got it from," he joked. She bumped her shoulder into his. "What's the verdict? Are you two still an unlikely pair, or an unlikely pair, no longer? Are you going to part ways? Is there a celebration to be had, or a pity party?"

"We're fine. We aren't getting a divorce of anything," she answered.

"Ah…a pity party then." Hermione gave him an exasperated look and he said, "I mean a celebration."

She suddenly opened her mouth, her eyes wide and she leaned over and hugged him and said, "By jove, Harry Potter, that's it! A celebration! We need to celebrate!"

"I was joking," he said, pushing her away from him. "I'll never celebrate the fact that you married the prince of darkness."

"Harry James Potter, that's a horrid thing to say!" she snapped. "He's the king, not the prince." She smiled, and he smiled back. Then she added, "No, what I meant was, since Draco and I never had a proper wedding anniversary, and the fact that he forgot ours sort of exacerbated my feelings of inadequacy, of which this weekend was an indirect result of, I think we should have an anniversary party. We would have to act quickly, though. I wish I knew where everyone was and when they were coming back."

"Well, leave that to me," Harry laughed, standing up. He reached for her hands, and helped her to stand. "I'm head Auror, if I can't find them, then something's terribly wrong with me. I'll hunt them down, make sure they stay gone a while, and you and the rest of the people here start decorating and planning. Sound like a plan?"

"You'd help me and the King of Darkness?" she asked.

"I'd helped you, because I love you, and you're my best friend, and that's the reason," he said, truthfully.

She grabbed his hand and said, "Let's go tell everyone our plans!"

* * *

_A/N: Only three more chapters after this. Hey...can you all guess where Draco went and what he's doing as his own little surprise for his wife?_


	28. Chapter 28

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 28:**

"No, no, no, George!" Draco shouted from the other side of the porch. "I told you she had a butter churn in the corner! You just transfigured that pot into a coat rack! Why would someone have a coat rack in the corner of a porch, for Merlin's sakes?"

George looked at Bill and said, "Why would someone have a butter churn in the corner of a porch?" He then snickered, but he changed the coat rack to a butter churn, but he said, "At least with the coat rack, you could hang your hat. What can you do with a butter churn?"

"Churn butter?" Charlie asked as he carried a wicker rocking chair from the front garden to place on the porch next to the butter churn.

"Gentlemen! We don't have time for your antics!" Draco shouted as he fluffed a pillow and handed it to Charlie to put on the wicker rocker. "I even took you all on a tour of the house just moments ago using Hermione's fantasy spell so you would know exactly how it looked, and yet you still are getting everything wrong!" He turned to everyone else and said, "Please everyone, this is important! Try to do everything exactly as it was!"

"Who does he remind you of, when he's all serious and bossy like that?" Bill asked Charlie.

"Hermione?"

"No, think again."

"Mum?"

"Think again."

"Our little sister?"

"That's the one."

"I heard that!" Ginny shouted from the living room. She came out the front door and she said, "Listen to me gentlemen, and unlike Draco, I use that term loosely. We don't have much time here! Draco paid the witch that bought Red Rose Cottage ten times what it was worth just so she would move out immediately, but it still took the stupid bint over two hours to pack up, even with magic, so now we only have an hour or so to get this place up to snuff for Hermione's belated anniversary gift! We got all of her old things out of storage, but we will still have to transfigure many things, and redecorate! It will take hard work and dedication, but Hermione's worth it! Do you want to disappoint Hermione? You all like Hermione, don't you? Well? Don't you?" By the end of her speech, her voice was loud and shrill.

And all five of her brothers, as well as Draco, and Draco's friends Theo, Blaise and Adrian were all quivering in their boots. "Now then, Draco, Ron and I are the only ones who really know how this place looked when Hermione lived here, so you will do exactly what we say, do you understand? Charlie, you and Percy go tackle the basement. Remember, she had all her shelves and books down there. You can't replace the books, but you can do the best you can."

"George, you and Theo finish up on the porch and then come and help me in the living room. Ron is working in the back bedroom, instead of making it like it was, he's making it into a nursery for Cygnus. Blaise, you help him."

"No Chudley Cannons paraphernalia," Draco said to Ron. "Blaise, I trust you."

"Damn," Ron said as they headed into the nursery.

Ginny said, "That just leaves the master bedroom. Adrian, you go start in there."

Adrian grinned, a most wicked grin, turned to Malfoy and said, "Shall I put some erotica in your nightstand? Perhaps some fancy lingerie for Hermione. Or maybe some scented oils and candles? A mirror on the ceiling?"

"Just do it as it was, and I'll come in and help in a moment!" Draco said with a roll of his eyes. Adrian started up the porch steps, but Draco pulled him back, and whispered in his ear, "The sexy lingerie would be okay, I guess, if you can handle that sort of transfiguration."

Adrian laughed and went straight to work.

Fleur walked out to the porch, held open the front door, smiled at her husband and said, "Bill, I'll borrow you to help me in the kitchen. I think I can remember how she had it decorated, and there are old pictures that Draco brought with him for us to look at, so would you like to help me?"

"Merlin, yes, thank you, sweetheart," Bill said, relieved to be away from Ginny and Draco. He practically ran into the house.

Draco stood back, staring at the house while everyone continued working. He remembered how Hermione described it to him:

_She said, "It only has four main rooms, a living room, a large kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bath, but there's a basement, and it has one large room in it, which I use for books. There's a small detached shed, that isn't even large enough for one car, and it has a large porch that starts in the front, and goes all the way around the house on one side, to the back."_

"_It has red, clapboard shingle siding, and a grey, slate roof, and a large brick fireplace, and hardwood floors, and a wrought-iron fence all around it, and pine cupboards in the kitchen."_

"_There are red and pink rosebushes all around the outside. I love it. My aunt Rose gave it to me, hence the name. It was the very first place I could call that was just my very own. She left it to me right after the war, and at that time, I really needed the peace and solitude that it afforded me."_

When he moved in here, right after they married, he never gave it any thought. He thought it was a nice little house, comfortable, and everywhere he looked, he thought of his wife, but he never thought of it as 'Home'. He never gave this little place a chance. It was out in the country, far away from everyone and everything, and it was small, with only one bathroom, and crammed to the hilt with books and baskets and pillows with flowers on them, and checkered couches and lace curtains and at the time he couldn't wait to move to a bigger, better house. His parents even decorated a whole wing of the Manor for them, ten rooms, in the hope that they would move there. That was where he lived when he married her, but in hindsight, he now knows why she will never be able to live there.

Therefore, they compromised…a bit. No, what they really did was what Draco wanted to do. Right after their honeymoon, he started looking for another house, and they moved in right before Cyggy was born. It was large, and it had four bathrooms, and it showcased both of their taste, and she had a library, and he had his den, and they had a large garden for Cyggy to play in someday, and it was their home. They had made it into something special and nice…but this cottage was something special to Hermione, too.

This would be THEIR weekend cottage. Their home away from home. Their getaway location. There was already a trout pond behind the house, as well as a little woods, so they could hike and fish and…and…

"Draco?" Ginny asked. She walked up to him and turned him away from the cottage. She reached up to his cheek and wiped away a tear. She whispered, "What's wrong?"

"Hermione loved this place because it was part of her, and I never took the time to appreciate that, and after this weekend, I've realized that to love someone, you have to love them completely, and take the time to appreciate every little thing about them. Do you think she'll be happy with the gesture? Do you think this will make up for the fact that I've been a terrible husband?"

"Get back to work you two wankers!" George yelled from the porch.

Ginny turned to face her brother and said, "Don't make me come up there, George!" He quickly ran into the house. She took Draco to a little wooden bench that was by an old pine tree in the front garden. She sat him down, sat beside him and said, "You've not been a bad husband, Draco Malfoy. Marriage is a learning process. No one goes into it knowing exactly what to do. The first few years are like the practice years. It's like you're in training for the years to come. It's the time when you learn from your mistakes, and you don't repeat them."

She stood up and said, "And she will be so happy about this. She loves you more than anything. You and the baby are her whole life. This is perhaps the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for another person." She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Harry Potter was standing at the edge of the garden. He approached the pair and said, "Kissing my wife, Malfoy?"

He looked up and said, "Actually, she kissed me. She wanted to know what it was like to kiss a real man."

"Right," Harry said with a smile.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the house. Percy looked out the door and said, "I didn't do it, it was George."

"GEORGE WEASLEY!" Ginny yelled as she marched into the house.

Harry sat beside Draco on the bench and said, "What's going on here?"

"It's a belated anniversary present for my wife. I needed a lot of help, so I called in the troops," Draco explained. "How did you find us? I purposely didn't want you to come. I knew you were stuck in the office, with paperwork."

"Gee, thanks," Harry said.

"No, I mean, I wanted you to be surprised, too," Draco explained, though he seemed embarrassed. "I wanted you to finally accept me as Hermione's husband, and to see how much I love her."

Harry frowned, clasped his hands in front of him and said, "I've never said anything negative to you, or about you to Hermione, since you've been married, so I don't understand that statement."

Draco stood up. "Listen, Potter, after your wife, you probably love Hermione more than you love anyone, right?"

Harry nodded.

"And after me and Cyggy, Hermione loves you the most," Draco stated.

"And your point?" Harry asked.

"You didn't approve of our quick marriage, right?"

"You know that. I did make my feelings clear that weekend, but that was because it was so rushed, and hurried, and I didn't see the reason you had to hurry things. You could have dated a while, made sure you were meant to be," Harry explained. "But since then, I've never said anything negative."

"Potter," Draco began, "after the weekend at the cabin, I've discovered something. It wouldn't have mattered if Hermione and I had gotten together right out of school, or while she was still with Ron, or even if she had married Ron, or if it was ten years from now, we would have fallen in love and married each other. Some things are inevitable. Some things just are, and you can't change them, for example, you're a git. It's just the way of things."

Harry made a funny face.

Draco paced back and forth in front of him and continued. "But that doesn't mean that every single thing you've thought about me, every worry and concern hasn't also been shared by me, or by Hermione, or by others. Hell, I know I'm not perfect, man."

"Do tell," Harry said sarcastically, his eyebrows in the air.

"I just want her approval, and because you are so important to her, and she to you, I guess what I'm trying to say, without throwing up, though a bit of bile is stuck in the back of my throat, but I'm trying to say that I want your approval, too. I don't want your friendship, because I know that will never happen. I don't want you to even like me. I just want you to accept me, and to see that Hermione and I are meant to be, and that we are no longer an unlikely pair. We are perhaps the most likely couple you've ever known."

Harry nodded his head slowly and stood up. He said, "Well, good luck with the cottage. I have to go. I have work to do, too. Hermione's planning an anniversary party for you back at the Burrow, and it seems as if we are going to have to work shorthanded, since you have all the Weasleys helping you."

Draco looked shocked. "She is?"

"Yep," Harry responded. "How much longer do you think you'll be here?"

"Ginny!" Draco bellowed.

Ginny walked out the front door, the screen banging behind her, and she said, "WHAT?" with an irritated tone.

"My wife is planning a surprise anniversary party at the Burrow for me. How much longer do you think we'll all be, because we can't ruin her plans."

"Don't worry. I'll get out a whip if I have to, and we'll be done in two hours, tops." She blew a kiss to her husband, and added, "You should go help Hermione, sweetheart. Get Oliver Wood to help as well, and maybe even Neville. I love you." She turned and walked inside and began to yell and shout at everyone again.

Draco turned to Harry and said, "Seriously, are you ever afraid of her?"

Harry just laughed and said, "You didn't see her raise her voice to me, did you? She's always sweet natured to me. That's why I love her so." He patted Draco's back and said, "I'll see you all in two hours, and after the party, you can bring everyone back here to show Hermione your surprise."

"Potter, wait," Draco said. "You didn't tell me how you knew we were here."

"I'm the best Auror around, Draco, but besides that, I called Ron on his mobile phone and he told me. See you later." He disapparated away, and Draco smiled. He walked into the cottage and started to work.


	29. Chapter 29

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 29:**

Hermione felt as if she was floating on air. Everything was coming together perfectly. Harry claimed he found Draco and all of the Weasley siblings, and although he would not say what they were up to, he did say that she would be pleasantly surprised. Therefore, since she knew Draco had not left her, or other such nonsense, she went about her surprise of an Anniversary party for him.

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy thought it would be gauche to have the party at the Burrow, but Hermione knew it would be perfect…since that was the place where they fell in love. Harry called Oliver Wood and Neville Longbottom, as well as Luna Lovegood, to help them with the party decorations and food. Oliver put up the tent that they used a year ago at their wedding. Harry began to place the chairs and tables around the tent. Neville arranged the most beautiful centerpieces, as well as beautiful garland of fresh fall mums, in golds, oranges and burgundies, that went from one end of the tent to the other.

Hermione's mother and Mrs. Weasley started on the food, with the special help of Luna, who was probably more hindrance than help. Hermione's father went home, with the help of Mr. Weasley, to look through his extensive CD collection. He owned every Beatle record ever made, and since, "Something" was their wedding song, she wanted Beatles love songs to be playing in the background.

Hermione was bathing Cygnus when her father-in-law walked into the small bathroom of the Burrow.

He stood in the doorway and watched them. Hermione was splashing the baby, who could only sit with her assistance. The dark, curly-haired baby, plump as the day was long, splashed both his fists into the water and giggled. Hermione took a sponge and washed his back and then began to sing to him.

Lucius cleared his throat. Hermione looked up and said, "Yes?"

"When you're done, I have something for you."

"We're done, aren't we Cam?" She rinsed the baby's body and then wrapped him in a large towel. She headed for Bill's old bedroom. She said, "I wish I had something special for him to wear.

"You do," Lucius said. "What do you think my wife has been doing? She picked out something nice for everyone to wear, even your parents. They won't be offended that someone spent money on them, will they?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "No, but they have nice clothes, and money. Someone could pop them home so they could change, but I'm sure they will appreciate the gesture."

"Yes, well, the clothes are from Narcissa, but I have something for you and Draco," he amended. "Cissy?" He called for his wife and she drifted into the bedroom, took the baby from Hermione's arms and then drifted right back out.

"My, you have her well trained," Hermione joked.

"Don't let her hear you say that, because she's about as well trained as you are, my dear," Lucius said seriously.

He sat on the edge of the bed, then stood suddenly, looked at the bed quickly, said, "Do you think it's clean enough to sit here?" Hermione gave him a scathing look and he said, "It's a valid question," then he sat back down and he patted the space beside him. Hermione sat down.

"I won't go over the whole 'we never wanted you two to marry' spill again, because that's rather old news," he began.

"How nice of you," Hermione interrupted.

"It would do no good anyway," he said off-handed. "Furthermore, you're aware we no longer feel that way, we know our son loves you and that you love him and as far as our grandson goes, well, he's absolutely the best looking, smartest baby in the world."

Hermione laughed. "Go on," she urged.

"I believe I once told you, early in your marriage that we were stuck with each other, didn't I?" he reminded her.

Hermione crossed her leg and said, "Yes, Draco and I had been married for about six weeks, it was the first time I had made dinner for you. We were still living in the cottage, but we had just bought the bigger house, so there were boxes all about and you made a comment about my housekeeping that wasn't very nice. Throughout the rest of the evening, you made a rather nasty remark about my hair, my cooking, my dinnerware, my choice of fragrances, my jumper, my middle name, and even my freckles. Before you left that night you said, 'I guess we're stuck with each other' and then you had the gall to kiss my cheek before you disapparated away."

"Draco told me later that after we left, I made you cry that night," Lucius said.

"I hate to admit it, because well…I hate to admit it, but that's true. I'm usually thicker skinned, I had to be, growing up a Muggle-born, and going to school with a prat named Draco Malfoy. I thought he was mean and cruel to me in school, but you rather took first prize that night. Of course, it didn't help that I was pregnant, and my hormones were all over the place, and that I was rather sad to be leaving my little cottage, and all. Please, why are we reliving this?" She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"I made you cry that night," he said again.

"Yes, yes, yes, you made me cry. It was probably the highlight of your year." She started to stand up, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back beside him on the bed. She looked down at the floor.

"Why did I make you cry?" he asked. "Why did you care what I thought?"

"I didn't," she said truthfully, "but Draco did, and if you were displeased, and hated me, and thought I wasn't good enough for him, then perhaps he might think the same. I could care less what you think about me, but because Draco loves you, and your opinion is important to him, I wanted to meet your approval."

Now the older man closed his eyes for a moment. "You see, daughter-in-law, I realized the same thing that evening. After we left, your husband visited us, and told me that I made you cry. I felt pleased, I admit, but only for a second. Then, he told me how much it hurt him, and embarrassed him, and how much he loved you, and how he wanted you to love me, because he loved me. Of course, I knew you would never love me, but my son seemed to harbor the fallacy that someday you might. Also, I knew I disappointed and embarrassed my son that night, and I also knew that if I continued to treat his wife with disdain, I would lose him, because he would pick you over me, and that, my dear, was a bitter pill for me to swallow."

"So you decided to try to at least tolerate me, correct?" she said.

He smiled. "Correct, but somehow, toleration because admiration. Admiration, because respect. Respect became fondness. Fondness became affection. Affection became something close to love."

She stared at him and said, "You went a bit far with that last one."

He raised his shoulders and said, "Believe what you will. Anyway, there's a point to my story."

"I was beginning to wonder if there was," she laughed.

He gave her a contemptuous look and then said, "Close to love is slowly turning to disdain again, Hermione." They both laughed and he took an envelope out of his pocket. He handed it to her.

She opened it and when she saw it, she gasped. "What's the meaning of this?" Inside was the deed to Malfoy Manor.

"It's yours, it's his, it's my grandson's. Happy, very belated, first anniversary Hermione Granger, no hyphen, Malfoy." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Do with it what you will."

"You can't give this to us," she said. "You don't understand, I don't even, I mean, I can't take this." She placed the envelope on the bed beside him and started out the door. He stood up quickly and grabbed her wrist again. He pulled her back inside the room and shut the door, to have privacy.

"I know what you're thinking, and I understand, more than you know, but I want you to understand, it's for whatever you want to do with it. My son made it very clear to his mother and myself that it could never be used as a family home for you. Nonetheless, it belongs to Draco, and to Cygnus." He sat back down and she sat beside him again.

He continued, "Not many people know this, in fact, only Draco and myself, and now you, but because of everything that happened there during the war, my wife has not felt like it has been a home since that time. She said that she doesn't feel comfortable there, and she doesn't wish to live in such a large place any longer. We've already found a smaller place in magical London. A mere twenty rooms…I don't know how we'll get used to a place so small, but we will." He reached for her hand, hesitantly, and when she didn't flinch, he took it in his.

"Understand this, because of ancient magic, the house must always stay in the family, so you must retain ownership, but you don't have to live there. All I ask, is that you leave it intact in case my grandson wants it someday. Anyway, I'm giving it to you now, for your approval, before I give it to you both this afternoon."

She nodded, because for once in her life she was speechless. She didn't want Malfoy Manor, ever, but it was Draco's home, and he loved it, and he would want their son to have it someday.

She recalled what he had told her about the Manor right after they married:

_He had said, "__You would actually really love it here. The gardens and woods are expansive, and there is a stream that runs across the property. Sometimes, you can walk for hours and not leave the grounds. It's secluded and private. There is a stable with horses, and my father put in an inside pool ten years ago. There's a large music room, and the library is almost as impressive as the library at Hogwarts."_

"_And you should see this place at Christmas. We have a tree in every room, and the whole place looks like a winter wonderland."_

Therefore, she took the envelope with the deed, placed it in her pocket, leaned over, and kissed Lucius on the cheek. She stood up and said, "I best see to the arrangements, and then I must get changed. I want to look pretty for Draco."

"Ah, well, you already have that taken care of, my dear." He stood up and said, "On that note, I'll go play with my grandson for a while. I'm sure you don't need me for any manual labour, do you?"

"Merlin, no," she laughed. She let the older man leave the room before her. She took the envelope back out of her pocket, looked at it again, and then stuck it back in her pocket, before she walked downstairs.

Hermione walked into the kitchen, and immediately, smells of all sorts invaded her senses, pies, cakes, meats, breads, sweets. "I swear, Molly, Mum, I don't know how you ladies did this so quickly."

"Nothing that a little magic didn't help with, I'm sure," Molly said with pride. Hermione swiped some cream from a pie, stuck her finger in her mouth and smiled. She actually jumped up and down and said, "He's going to be so surprised and happy!"

She walked outside, where her father and Mr. Weasley were setting up her father's portable CD player. "Batteries, Hermione! Look, aren't they wonderful! This little thing plays music without electricity! It takes batteries!"

"I know, Arthur, amazing," Hermione laughed. She walked past the two men and walked under the tent. Oliver was sitting at one of the tables. "Hard at work, Ollie?" Hermione asked.

"Now, now, lass, you've just now caught me at rest. I assure you, I have been working my fingers to the bone. Look, calluses!"

Hermione walked up to him, held one of his hands in both of hers and she asked, "Are you certain those aren't from Quidditch?"

"Well, maybe," he said slyly, with a smile. She dropped his hand, and started to walk away, when he said, "Oi, Hermione!" She turned back toward him. "So I guess it's going to last then, right? Your marriage to the git?"

"After more than a year, and a child together, yes Oliver, it's going to last my lifetime," she said with a large smile.

"No harm in askin'," he said. He jumped up and said, "On that note, I have to go home and get cleaned up. I'll be back in an hour for the festivities."

Neville and Luna had both already left as well, for the same reason. Hermione spied Harry at the edge of the tent, and she walked up to him, took his arm, and wrapped it around her waist. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Everything looks great," he said. "You're happy, right?"

"I am," she said plainly.

"I know there was some question, a month or so ago. You know, Draco came to me, and said that you had been very unhappy as of late," Harry admitted. "One weekend alone with him, and what? Suddenly, you're okay? You're happy? Everything with your marriage is back on track?"

"Yes," was all she could say, because she felt it was. "I'm not going to beat a dead horse, and go over everything Draco and I discussed and went over this weekend, because frankly, we went through the gauntlet this weekend, but yes Harry, I'm happy, and my marriage is back on track, and everything is really going to be okay. How about you? Are you and Ginny still trying to have a baby?"

Harry sighed. He hugged her. With his chin on her head he said, "We will try for a while longer, I suppose. I know you wanted more children, what's going on with that?"

"I can't have anymore," she said, simply.

He leaned away from her and frowned. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Do you want to tell me about it?"

She patted his cheek and said, "Let's have lunch Tuesday, and I'll tell you the whole sordid story, okay. It's nothing too dramatic."

"I'm still sorry."

Arthur called for Harry and Hermione. They left the tent and headed toward the house. He was leaning out the backdoor and he said, "Ginny just called me on that little phone thing you got me, Harry. She said that everyone will be coming back around four o'clock. I told her to make sure they were all dressed to the nines, and she asked me why, and I told her it was a surprise." He smiled and said, "Are you ready, Hermione?"

She smiled, turned to Harry, and said, "Are we ready?"

"I am, if you are. You already married the prat; this is just a late staged anniversary party, for goodness sakes."

She hit him lightly on the chest, and walked into the kitchen, followed by Harry. She said, "Well, I must go get dressed, because my husband will be here in less than a half an hour!" She ran all the way up the stairs.

(ONE MORE CHAPTER!)


	30. Chapter 30

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 30: The End of an Unlikely Pair Trilogy:**

Harry Potter had sent word that everyone was to dress in his or her finest, and meet in the back garden of the Burrow, except for Draco, who was to come to the front door and knock. Therefore, Draco went home to shower and change before going back to the Burrow.

Perhaps he was to go to the front door, because he wasn't considered family, like everyone else. On the other hand, perhaps it was because his wife had planned a nice little surprise for him. He was self-centered enough to think it was the latter, but insecure and sensitive enough to fear it was the first. He dressed in a dark navy suit, blue shirt, and silver tie. He was to report to the front door promptly at four o'clock, and it was already four minutes after. He would wait a few more minutes. He was always late for everything, but that wasn't why he was waiting. He didn't want to cause his wife discomfort or anger by being late. He was stalling because he was slightly nervous.

He was nervous for what his wife had planned, he was nervous about his own present to her, he was worried and anxious that now that the weekend was over, and they were away from the little cabin, that everything would go back to the way it was before: fractured and stagnant. Of course, they both had the power, and their new ten commandments to follow, to make sure things were better now.

He wandered around their bedroom, touching her things…her brush, her lipstick, her book, her perfume. He closed his eyes and imagined her here with him. Then he imagined her face if he was late, so he decided to apparate directly to the front of the Burrow.

He arrived outside the gate. He opened the latch, walked up the path, up the steps to the porch, stood outside the door, and knocked six times, one time for each minute he was late.

Hermione stood in Ginny's old bedroom, gazed upon her reflection for the umpteenth time in the old mirror on the back of the bedroom door, and took a deep breath. Her mother-in-law had picked out a beautiful lilac dress for her to wear, silk, v-neck, long sleeves, which draped beautifully on her curves. She also gave Hermione a set of sapphire earrings as a belated anniversary present. Hermione placed the last earring in her right ear, looked at her watch, and saw that Draco was four minutes late. She wouldn't yell at him for being late today, no, not today. Today she would let it pass.

She felt nervous about the party. What if he thought she was rubbing salt in an old wound by throwing an anniversary party for him, when he, in fact, forgot their anniversary? What if he was embarrassed that she had told all their family and friends that he had forgotten their anniversary? Wasn't that as bad as when he told all of them about her depression?

No, she would stop second-guessing herself. This party was a perfect ending to a perfect weekend, to an almost perfect fourteen months, twelve days, three hours and four minutes, (now five minutes), of marriage.

She smiled as she checked her reflection again. She felt a sense of giddiness. She almost felt as if she was getting ready for a date with her own husband. The odd thing was she had never gone on a real date with her husband. They married without dating.

Before she could ponder other questions, or worry about any new things, she heard six knocks on the door. She looked at her watch again. A knock for each minute he was late. She flung open the bedroom door and practically flew down the stairs. She straightened her dress and smoothed down her hair before she opened the front door.

Then, she smiled. He was so handsome that she felt giddy all over again. "Hello, Draco. You look so dashing."

He smiled in return. She was so beautiful it astounded him. He said, "And you look smashing."

"We are dashing and smashing," Hermione repeated with a laugh.

"I'd rather think we are at that," he said, nervously. Then he rose up on his toes, rocked back on the balls of his feet, looked up at top of the doorframe and said, "I think I'm nervous."

"So am I," she admitted. She cupped his cheek with her hand. "Why are you nervous, Draco?"

He laughed again, and said, "A host of reasons. I'm nervous for what you have planned, because I know you have something up your proverbial sleeve, and I'm nervous about something I planned for you later, and I'm nervous about the rest of our lives, if that makes sense."

"Sure, that makes sense. As I said, I'm nervous, too," she repeated.

He leaned against the doorjamb and asked, "Why are you nervous?"

"Two reasons, really," she declared. "One is because the thing I have planned is meant to be innocent, and not accusatory at all, but I'm afraid you'll view it as me accusing you of something, and two, because I was upstairs in Ginny's old room, getting ready, and I rather felt like I was getting ready for our first date or something, funny, huh?"

"What's a first date?" he joked.

"It's those things people go on before they marry," she joked in return.

"Ah, yes, I recall those. Bloody nuisance, if you ask me. I say find the person you want to marry, and marry them immediately. It worked for you and me." He started through the doorway, took her hand, only to drop it quickly when the other part of her sentence hit him. "Why are you worried that I'll view your surprise as a personal attack against me? Bloody hell, Granger, it's not one of those Muggle interventions, is it? Tell me I did not get dressed up in my best suit for that!"

She openly laughed and said, "An intervention! What problem do you have that is so great that I would have to have an intervention for you? I don't think people have interventions for people whose main problems are that they are vain, egotistical, and arrogant."

"Hey, that's not nice…well, okay, I am those things," he concurred. "But maybe it's a liar's invention, or maybe it's an intervention to confront me for being such a bad husband."

"You don't lie that often anymore," she said.

"You're supposed to say, 'You're not a bad husband, Draco.'!" He pushed her slightly and then they both laughed. She took his hand again and led him through the living room into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he wrenched his hand from hers again and said, "I can't stand surprises. Tell me what's waiting for me out there. Did you buy me a car?"

"You have more cars than you have brain cells," she joshed. "Seriously, did you learn nothing from this weekend? One of our commandments was to trust me, so trust me, Draco. Let's go outside."

"The last time I trusted you this weekend you were supposed to catch me when I fell backwards, and as I recall, you let me fall on my bum, so it's hard to trust you, wifey-poo." He leaned over, kissed her cheek, took her arm and opened the backdoor.

He walked down the steps before she did, and outside he saw all their friends and family under a tent. Swags of autumn flowers hung as garland from one end of the tent to another. Under the tent sat beautifully decorated small round tables with equally beautiful centerpieces, there was one large table with all his favourite foods and sweets, the sounds of the Beatles wafted through the air, (the song 'Here, There, and Everywhere' was playing), and even his parents were there. His father was holding Cygnus.

A banner went from one end of the tent to another and it said, "_Happy belated Anniversary Draco and Hermione"._

Their ten commandments were blown up, almost life size, and were hanging from a tree near the tent. A few of the guests were reading them and laughing. The smell of food overwhelmed his senses. Everything overwhelmed his senses! He turned to Hermione and said, "You thought I would be angry about this?"

"I didn't want you to think that I was bringing up the fact that you forgot our anniversary the first time," she said quietly. "Are you surprised? We didn't have much time to plan, or much help, because you took most of the Weasleys with you, so I had to call your parents, my parents, and even Neville and Luna to come help."

"And I see you simply had to have Ollie Wood help as well," Draco said sarcastically, pointing at the Scottish man as he read their commandments, "and yet, I'm still pleased as can be. Thank you, lovely wife. I love you. This is so nice. Why don't you just plan a surprise anniversary party every year, that way, I won't feel so much pressure to remember it. In fact, if it's a surprise, I won't have to remember it at all."

"I don't think so, you git," she said. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Are you really pleased?"

"Very much. It's perfect." And it was. Now, he could give her the cottage as a belated anniversary gift. Everything was working out perfectly.

"Before we eat, Draco old man, I thought you might like to say a few words," George Weasley said. "Goodness knows you're never without something to say."

"Hear, Hear, speech!" Charlie Weasley shouted.

"You know, actually, for once, I think I'm speechless," he said. Everyone laughed. He turned to Hermione and said, "However, let me try to think of something." He cleared his throat and took her hand again. "You know, on second thought, I think Granger and I rather said it all to each other this weekend, and I don't feel the need to share. I will say one thing…no matter what anyone says, Hermione Granger, intellectual, Muggle-born, hopelessly middle class, hopelessly exasperated with me, hopelessly romantic, and hopelessly mine forever, was meant for me, in every single way, and no matter what, we would have found each other and married. I know that in the depths of my heart. She is the other half of me. She makes me a better person." He cleared his throat again, because he felt rather embarrassed, and exposed, having said such sentimental rubbish in front of everyone, so he leaned closer, so only she could hear the next part and he said, "I couldn't exist without you. You're my everything, and I love you more than you'll ever know, and more than I can ever show."

She placed her hand on his cheek and then placed her cheek next to his. She said in his ear, "I would have such a sad, unhappy life without you, Draco." She leaned away and then she said, "Oh hell, who are we kidding, my life is sometimes a bit sad and unhappy with you, but at least it's interesting."

"Too true," he agreed. Their friends all laughed.

"Before we start celebrating, I have a present for you," she said. "It's really from your father and mother, but it's with my blessing." She took a deep breath and reached inside the neckline of her dress, where she had hidden the deed to the Manor.

Draco raised his eyebrows, looked out at the crowd and said, "Gee, thanks Mummy and Daddy! I've always wanted Hermione's bosoms as a present." Everyone laughed again.

"Draco Malfoy, do not embarrass me!" Hermione chafed. She hit him with the piece of yellowed parchment that she had drawn out of her dress. She handed it to him. He started to unfold the parchment, but she added, "Before you open that, I want to say that all it represents is my acceptance to it as a place, not a home, okay?"

"Whatever that means," Draco laughed. He opened the yellowed, aged piece of parchment carefully, and after several moments, he realized what it was. "What?" he asked. He looked at Hermione first, then to his parents.

"Your mother and father are moving to a smaller place in London, and since this will be yours someday anyway, and then Cam's, they wanted to go ahead and give it to us, but they wanted my approval, and I approve." Draco was still frowning, instead of smiling.

He took her arm and turned her away from the crowd, who were all murmuring around them.

"Granger, we can't move to the Manor. You once said you could never live there, because of what happen there during the war. I understand that. I wouldn't want you to be unhappy," he said.

"I'll be happy if you're happy, and I meant what I said before, I can't ever live there, Draco, but it's your home, your legacy, your birthright," she continued, her hand on his arm, his arm around her waist. "Remember that first weekend, after our honeymoon, when you took me on a tour of the grounds and the house, and you told me about growing up there, and how much you loved it? You took me over the grounds, to the woods and showed me the stream, and you told me about the library, and about how wonderful Christmas was there, and everything that you loved about it growing up."

"Well, I decided I had no right to take that away from you. Let's just say, I know what it feels like to have something that important taken away from you, a place you call home, and it's not a nice feeling. I mean, home is where the heart is, I know, and my home will always be with you and our son, and yours with Cygnus, and me, but a house can be a home, too. It's not just a sense of well being, but a place, isn't it?"

"I want you to know that it's true, I can't live there, but that doesn't mean we can't spend weekends there occasionally, or holidays, or have parties there. I might even want to borrow a book from that massive library someday." She smiled.

However, he was still frowning. One statement stuck in his brain and screamed out at him. She had said, _"Let's just say I know what it feels like to have something important taken away from you, a place you call home, and it's not a nice feeling."_ She was referring to her cottage. He felt sick to his stomach that he had forced her to leave a place that she loved and called home. Then in the next second, he felt elated that he was going to be able to give it back to her, just as she had given him permission to return to the Manor, and in some sense to be able to call it 'home' once again.

"Thank you," he said simply. There were no other words to express how he felt. Their wedding song began to play. As the sounds of the song, '_Something'_ played around them, they began to dance. Hermione's dad walked toward them, holding their son. He handed the baby to them. Draco held his wife, as she held their son, and the three of them danced to the same song that just fourteen months earlier, she had walked down an aisle to, on their wedding day.

After a few more speeches, some heartfelt, (Hermione's), some funny, (George's), some reluctant, (Harry's), some sincere, (Hermione's dad), some cordial, (Lucius Malfoy's) the entire group ate and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon.

Around seven in the evening, Draco stood up and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Attention, ladies, gentlemen, Oliver Wood. I have an announcement to make. I too have an anniversary present for my wife. It's something we've all been working on all morning long, and we didn't know it was going to be an anniversary present, because we didn't know she had planned this little party. However, it fits perfectly in our little theme of places to call home. If everyone would kindly grab a hand of a Weasley sibling, I think there's enough of them, we will apparate everyone there."

Everyone began to pop away, everyone except for Draco and Hermione. Hermione was feeding their son, and she looked up from her chair and said, "What have you done?"

"Take my hand and find out," he said.

Hermione placed her son's bottle on the table, looked at the baby and said, "Shall we trust him, son?"

"He says yes," Draco said. He held out his hand. She stood up, biting her bottom lip. She felt more nervous than she'd felt earlier. She still hadn't taken his hand. He said, "Trust me, Hermione. I will never, ever, let you down again. I've learned my lesson this weekend. Everything I do from now on will put your happiness, and our son's happiness, first." She slowly placed her hand in his. He brought it up to his mouth, kissed it, kissed the top of his son's head, and then wrapped his arms around them both, and disapparated away.

He landed directly inside the living room. Everyone else had been directed to land outside. He wanted Hermione to be the first one to see the inside, and he wanted to show it to her alone. He let her go, and she stumbled. He held out his arm to steady her, and he took their now crying infant from her arms.

However, she didn't hear her son's cries. She didn't hear Draco as he explained how he contacted the witch who bought the cottage that very morning, how he had to give her a boatload of galleons for the place, how they had to work all day to restore it to how she once had it. She didn't hear him as he complained about how the Weasleys fought and were worthless workers, and if it wasn't for Ginny, nothing would have been completed.

No…she didn't hear any of that. She was in total awe, complete shock, astonished, astounded, surprised. She roamed around the room, in amazement. He said something about how he took her old things out of storage, to decorate the place. She didn't hear him. She picked up a pillow. He said something about how he recreated the things he had to replace. She didn't notice. She walked up to the front window, looked outside, saw all her family and friends on the front garden, and she turned back to face him and her son.

Then she ran from the room, out the backdoor, and to the back garden. Draco was confused. He opened the front door, asked Ginny to take the baby and to show everyone around.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked even as she passed the crying baby to Harry.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Draco took off toward the backdoor, ran outside, and looked everywhere for her. He spotted her by a fence at the very end of the garden, near the little woods. He walked toward her slowly.

When he finally reached her, she turned to face him. "Hermione, have I done something wrong? Was this the wrong thing to do?" Had he messed up, yet again?

She threw her arms around him and continued to cry. He smiled. No, he had done the best thing possible. He had made his wife cry, and this time, they were tears of joy and happiness.

"Oh, Malfoy, what have you done?" she asked as she pushed away from his chest.

"I hope I've done something incredibly loving and endearing, or else I've wasted my entire morning and most of my afternoon," he complained. "I'm confused. Are you happy?"

"Yes," she said plainly. She closed her eyes slowly, placed her hands over her face, and repeated that sentiment. "Yes, I'm very happy." She opened her eyes and looked back at her little red cottage. "How did you manage this so fast? I thought I was wonderful to plan a simple party for you in one morning, but you did all of this!"

"I am rather amazing, aren't I?" he said without airs. He took her hand and swung her arm back and forth. "Now we'll have to bide our time between our home, Red Roes cottage, and the Manor. Good thing I'm going to become a man of leisure and quit my job."

"And I'll be twice as busy, going back to school, and the cottage will be the perfect escape, the perfect place to come and study, or to spend time alone."

"Alone?" he asked. "You mean, without me and Cyg?"

"Alone," she reiterated, "Meaning only me, my husband and my child, no one else." She placed her arms around his waist, hugged him tight with her head on his shoulder and she said, "This so makes up for you forgetting our anniversary. This is the nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you so much. I love this place, and I've really missed it." She looked up at him and he traced a finger down her face.

She explained, "I think when I ran away to my dad's cabin this weekend, I secretly wished I still had this place in which to run. I shouldn't have given it up so easily. We were just married, I didn't know you very well, so to speak, I wanted to make you happy, you wanted a bigger house, and since I had already said no to living in a wing at the Manor, I thought I couldn't say no to a bigger house. I felt I owed it to you, to give up my cottage, because I made you give up the Manor for me."

He shook his head. He reached for her hands, and held them in his. "I never asked you to give up your cottage. Yes, I wanted, needed, and expected a bigger home after we married, but all you had to say was that you wanted to keep your cottage and we would have kept it. It wasn't like we needed the money from the sale of the cottage to buy the new house. Granger, sometimes, for a smart woman, you're unperceptable."

"That's not a word," she complained.

"Yes it is, look it up," he said with a grin.

"What does it mean?" she challenged.

"It means to be without perception, to be dense, in other words, to be Hermione Granger no hyphen Malfoy."

"You're a nutter," she said. They walked back toward the cottage, hand-in-hand in silence. When they reached the back porch, Hermione asked, "Do me a favour."

"I already bought your bloody cottage back, what more do you want?" he asked with a sardonic lilt to his voice.

She glared at him.

"Fine, what?" he asked.

"Make everyone leave now."

"Why? That would be rude," he said. "They all helped a lot today, and they want to help us celebrate," Draco explained.

"I want to make love to you," she said.

Draco opened the backdoor and shouted, "Alright, it's time for everyone to leave now!" He stepped inside and said, "All you Weasleys, I want to thank you for all your hard work, but it's time to go. It's late and I'm tired." He turned toward Harry and Ginny, who were playing with the baby on the couch, and he said, "Why don't you two take Cyggy home for the night, and maybe if you're good, Father Christmas will give you one of your own someday."

Ginny frowned at him, but Harry merely handed him his son. "Fine, we'll go, but you can take care of your own son, Malfoy." Draco handed the baby to Hermione's mother and turned to the others in the room.

He pushed on Adrian Pucey's back and he said, "Out, out, out. My wife and I need some time alone." Adrian snickered and Draco leaned forward and whispered, "Did you do what you said you were going to do in the master bedroom, with the lingerie in the closet?"

Adrian nodded, winked, and left.

Draco clapped his hands and said, "Okay that takes care of three people, why are the rest of you all still standing around. Out, out, I say. Bill, take your family and go home. Charlie, take yourself and go home. Wood, throw yourself under a bus."

Hermione laughed and said, "Draco, don't be so rude."

"You shut up, you're the one that wanted to be alone," he said with a pointed finger in her direction.

Her mother leaned over, kissed her cheek and said, "Molly and Arthur will see that your father and I get home. We'll take Cygnus for one more night, won't we Edward?"

Edward was walking out of the bathroom and he said, "What? Where is everyone going? Why is everyone leaving already?"

"That's right, finish up the tour, Edward, and get your arse out of here," Draco barked. Lucius was sitting in a wingback chair by the fireplace and Draco turned to him and said, "You too, Father, get the hell out of my cottage." Lucius stood up, gave him a towering stare, and Draco leaned forward and said, "Please, Father? Hermione wants to have sex now."

"Say no more," Draco's mother said. She took her husband's arm and led him toward the door.

Lucius looked over his shoulder and continued to stare at his son. Draco called out, "Thank you, Father. I'll see you tomorrow. We'll have drinks. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

After everyone was gone, Draco shut and locked the door. Hermione stood in the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room and laughed. "Draco, now they all know why we want to be alone."

"So?"

She looked up at the ceiling and said, "He did a really nice, thoughtful, wonderful thing, so I shall not become angry with him. I won't." She looked at her husband and said, "You're incorrigible."

"Is that a word?" he joked, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom.

"It's a word, believe me," she said. "Unlike you, I don't make up words." Draco led her to the bedroom, opened the door, and his jaw dropped. Hermione walked directly into his back. She stepped around him and she too stopped, in horror.

Draco turned to her and said, "I swear, Granger, I gave Pucey the job of decorating the bedroom, and he had pictures to go by, plus I had used your little fantasy spell with all of them, so they could see how everything looked, so they could recreate what we didn't have in storage. I did not tell him to do this! He said he was putting some sexy lingerie in the closet, and a sexy book on the nightstand, and that's it, I swear!"

Hermione began to laugh. She bent at the waist and laughed, and laughed and laughed.

There were mirrors on the ceiling, black fur on the bed, chains hanging from the wall, sex toys everywhere, and even a 'how to manual' lying on the bed. In a frame on the wall were their ten commandments. Hermione wheezed, "Everyone saw this, Draco!" She laughed harder.

Draco opened the closet door and found nothing but leather and bondage gear. He said, "I don't know whether to kill Adrian Pucey, or give him a hug."

Hermione was still laughing. When she finally stopped she said, "I cannot make love to you in here, but it was good for a laugh. Come on, let's just go home."

"No, I wanted this to be perfect," he whined.

"Any place with you is perfect," she said poetically.

"What a bunch of malarkey," he scoffed. "Get out. I'll fix this room in no time. Go get naked or something. Give me fifteen minutes or so."

He literally pushed her out of the door.

Hermione went into the bathroom, and when she came out, exactly fifteen minutes later, her old bedroom was put to rights. It was exactly as she remembered it. "Wow, you did a great job," she said as she walked into the room, fingering the quilt on the bed.

"I did nothing. The whole place was charmed to change back to this. You no sooner left when it started to change," Draco said with a grin.

"Oh," she said modestly. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, she continued to walk around the familiar looking room. He finally reached for her, clutched her to him and growled, "I think I need you now, Granger."

He laid her down on the mattress, and when her hands went to her ears, to remove the earrings, he said, "Allow me." He removed her earrings, then her wedding rings, and her watch. He placed them all on the table by the bed. He leaned over her and he figured out a way to undo her dress so that she stayed on the bed. Once it was on the floor, he worked on her shoes, her stockings, her bra and then her knickers. When she was completely naked, laid out in front of him, a feast for his eyes, he said, "I will never need to see another woman as long as I live, because I've seen perfection in you."

She tilted her head and smiled at him. He removed his jacket, his tie, and then unbuttoned his shirt slowly. He knew he could never live without her, and the thought of doing so hurt him deep inside. He loved his wife. What a strange sentiment. "I love my wife," he said aloud. He kicked off his shoes, and pulled off his socks.

"Does she know?" Hermione asked with a laugh.

"I'm sure she does," he said as he removed his pants. Her hand came up to his stomach, and her fingers skimmed the skin there, and then went slowly down his hip to his thigh. There was nothing more breathtaking than the sight of his wife when she was full of desire for him. It was intoxicating.

With reverence, he stroked her cheek and her neck. He sat beside her on the bed, slid his hand down her neck, to her chest, around her breasts, down her arms, down one leg, and then up the other. He cupped one breast, leaned down, and kissed the outside of the other. Her skin was flawless, ivory and fair, free of blemishes and scars. He kissed his way down her stomach. She grasped his hair. He lifted his head again, placed his chin on her stomach, and said, "I love the fact that no other man will ever look upon this sight before me. It's only for me, forever. That's a hallowing thought, love. It boggles my mind to know that you're mine forever."

He said it so sincerely that she was without words. She lifted his face from her stomach, pulled his face up to hers, and kissed him hard and with ultimate passion. When they parted, she said, "Draco Malfoy, you are the most precious man in the world, and perfect for me in every, single way."

"The whole world?" he asked, amused.

"Yes," she said sincerely.

"And the next time I vex you terribly, may I remind you that you made such a claim?" he asked, still amused by her statement.

"You may," she laughed. With a tenderness that almost made him cry, she propped herself on her side, and began to touch him all over, with gentle caresses, her hand sliding and gliding along his chest, arms, legs, face, stomach. She was touching him as if it was the first time, as if she was trying to remember him forever, or as if she was molding him in clay. He waited his entire life for her, and here she was, and it was almost too ideal.

They made love, and that was enough said. When they finally parted, her head on his chest, his arms around her, he asked, "Is there anything else that would make this weekend perfect for you, Hermione? Is there anything else I can do for you to make you see that we really do belong together, forever?"

"No, life is perfect and complete," she said, but then she sat up. "Wait, maybe not."

"Hold that thought," he said. He jumped from the bed, grabbed his pants and only his pants, slipped them on, and walked out the door. She assumed he was going to the toilet, although why he needed his trousers for the toilet she didn't know.

"That was a bit rude," she said to herself. She was going to tell him that the only thing that would make the weekend perfect, and end it on a completely happy note, would be if Cygnus was with them, but he jumped out of bed before she could finish her thought. She climbed out of the bed, slipped his shirt over her body, and then straightened up the covers before she climbed back in the bed.

A few moments later, Draco came walking into the bedroom, their infant son in his arms. She clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, Draco, that was what I was going to say! It would be perfect if Cam was here."

"I know, I know," he said, handing their son to his mother, and then sitting next to them on the bed. Their baby was sleeping. He put his arms around them both and said, "If this weekend has taught you only one thing, Granger, let it be that we are meant to be together, forever, oh, and that I know you better than you know yourself."

"That's two things," she argued. She kissed the baby's head.

"Fine, if this weekend has taught you two things, let it be…" he started.

She interrupted and said, "I get it, fine, just stop talking. I'm tired and you might wake the baby."

"I'm trying to be all romantic and poetic," he whined.

"Yes, and it's appreciated, but you can stop it now. It's a bit much, and it's harbouring on the sickening," she complained.

"Sickening? You did not just call me sickening," he said. He removed his pants and then got back under the covers. "You're the sickening one…all the rubbish about me being the most precious man in the world and perfect for you in every way. Bollocks, I say. If I was perfect for you in ever way, you wouldn't have just insulted me."

"Go to sleep, Draco," she said. She rocked her already sleeping baby back and forth, as she sat in the bed. "You are perfect, so just shut up and go to sleep."

"You're perfect, too, so you shut up and go to sleep," he said. He turned away from her, smiled, and said, "I love you, Granger."

She leaned over him, kissed his cheek, and said, "I know, and I love you, Malfoy." He turned to face her. She scooted down in the bed, placed their son between them, and they smiled at each other.

"We make a perfect pair, don't we?" he asked.

"Indeed," she said. She kissed her son, then her husband, then closed her eyes. When she was asleep, her husband picked their son up from the bed, placed him in the crib in the other room, and then joined her again in their bedroom.

He pulled her in his arms and closed his eyes, and went to sleep, and dreamed of a perfect life, where they were no longer an unlikely pair, but the most perfect pair in the world.

The End

* * *

**Ten Commandments to a Good Marriage, by Draco and Hermione**

1.) Thou shall not avoid your spouse. Do not avoid talking to them. Do not avoid spending time with them. Do not avoid telling them how you think and what you feel. Don't assume to know what they want, by avoiding them.

2.) No lying to your spouse under any circumstances, no matter what, because all lies have the potential of hurting others.

3.) Before retiring each night, tell your spouse one thing you like about them, or say one genuinely nice thing to them, and never let issues or petty fights from the day continue until the next day. Resolve all issues before bed and then smile and make the other person happy, because you're in love with them, after all.

4.) All life decisions that affect both partners, their family, their home, and their hearts, shall be made jointly, regardless of the fact that one partner might make more money than the other. Marriage is an equal partnership, and no one has more say in any decision than the other person.

5.) Marriage is about giving and receiving. Selfishness should be avoided. Think before you act, and before considering your feelings, think of your spouse first. Always put their feelings above and before your own. Trust your instincts. If you are afraid something might hurt the other person, it probably will.

6.) Everyday you should strive to make your spouse laugh or smile. Enjoy each other. Find comfort in each other. Play silly games, make up songs, find joy in the little things, and most important of all, remember to always end and start the day with a simple, "I love you", because if you do, you should say it. In other words, be nice and never say mean or hateful things to the person whom you love the most, and who loves you just as much.

7.) If you can't talk to the person you're married to, then you shouldn't talk to anyone. Even if the problem is with them, you need to speak with them first. Be truthful with your emotions, wants, and desires. Don't be afraid to admit what you want and need. Don't be afraid of rejection. Ultimate trust and honestly must be preserved at all times, if a marriage is to be successful. If you can't share your hopes, dreams, fears, and failures, with the person who loves you the most, and without fear of retribution, then you shouldn't share them with anyone else

8.) Spend quality time together every week. Make plans, and keep them. Date your spouse, just as you did when you were courting, (yes, yes, Draco and Hermione never dated, they just got married, we know.) Pick one day a week for a date, even if the date is a simple walk, or as elaborate as a weekend away, and make sure to spend one day a week as a family, because family is forever.

9.) Share your interest and passions with each other. Don't be afraid to show your spouse the 'real you', and what is really important to you. Make time for yourself, but make time to be together. Be selfless with your time and your pursuits. If there is something you enjoy doing by yourself, than you should enjoy it even more sharing it with your loved one. Share of your time, talent, love and life.

10.) Fall in love with your spouse every day, all over again, as if each day is the first day, or the last day.


End file.
